#i mean she's not but good on you for the double digit attempt

[texts-from-last-ninth]

[Mercymorn Font: (909): WHY DIDN'T ANYON E TELL ME SHE WAS SIXTEEN]

[literaryavenger]

Love Is A Battlefield

Summary: Bucky gets hurt during a mission and you can't help but blame yourself.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language cause why not. Mentions of Bucky's past. Injuries. Overprotective reader. Description of violence. Fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: This was inspired by this post and a dream I had lol. I couldn't help but start writing and this is what came out. Enjoy.

Masterlist

"Who the fuck do you think you’re calling a bitch, you ass?" you sneer at the guy to your left right before kicking him in the stomach and then bringing his head down on your knee when he doubles over, effectively knocking him out.

"Language!" you hear in you earpiece and roll your eyes.

"Why don’t you shut the fuck up, Rogers." you tell him while making your way through the corridor, taking Hydra agents down as you go.

"Can’t you do this without cursing so much?!" he sounds more exasperated at you than at the agents he’s supposed to keep distracted outside.

"Can’t you stop bitching in my ear? I’m a little busy here!" all he answers with is a groan and you know you won this round.

You hear Sam crackling before he says "1-0 to Y/N." which makes you laugh.

"Thanks, Sammy."

"Anytime, baby." you roll your eyes at his nickname, the small distraction allowing an agent to get too close to you and you feel a sharp pain in your forearm and almost drop your gun.

"Shit!" you hiss at the pain and zero in on the idiot that cut you.

You can hear the concerned voices in your ear, but don’t allow yourself to get distracted again as you take care of the last few agents on your side of the building.

"Y/N, are you okay? What’s happening? Can someone get to her?" you hear Bucky’s voice for the first time since the mission started and you can’t help the warm feeling it brings, the concern in his voice making you answer almost immediately.

"Just give me a minute!" you say as you battle the last guy standing.

Once you’ve successfully knocked him out, you take a second to breathe before addressing the voices still coming to your ear while you make your way through the maze of corridors in this Hydra base.

"I’m okay guys, but apparently all these people have some sort of collective knife kink." you say and you can hear Steve’s annoyed groan and the rest of the team’s laughter as you check out your cut. Not too deep, you think to yourself.

You think you hear a relieved sigh between the laughter, but almost instantly forget about it as you finally come to the door you’ve been looking for.

"Clint, status?" you ask him since he’s on the roof, being the eyes on the whole operation.

"Everyone’s thoroughly distracted out here." he answers.

"Good. James, Sam, are you done with the explosives?" you can hear Sam grunting as you enter the room, locating the computer you need and turning it on.

"Just a second!" Sam says, you hear a couple of punches landing and then "Done. This place is ready to blow as soon as you have the files."

"And hurry, we can’t hold them off forever." Steve adds.

"Inserting the USB now, I need at least 5 minutes for the download to finish. Friday, remember to copy Hill at Shield HQ and to save the files in the Avengers private server." you tell the AI as you make your way through the office, grabbing files that seem important as the digital ones download.

"Really? Why the private server?" Steve asks between punches.

"Because, Captain Dumbass, these files could contain sensitive information about one of our own. We have to be careful with them." you say while still looking through the cabinets of papers.

"Do you have to be so mean to me?" he almost whines.

"Hey, it’s your best friend that I’m looking out for." you say almost laughing.

"Yeah, I’m sure it’s me you’re doing this for." You can basically hear the smirk in Steve’s voice but before you can answer, Natasha cuts in.

"Are you two done bickering?" she says annoyed.

"Oh no, please, let them keep going, this is so entertaining." Tony comments, but you get distracted from the conversation when you find a black box in one of the desk drawers that was previously locked, you open it and can’t help the gasp that escapes you. Bucky’s dog tags.

"Guys… do we have to blow up this base?" you ask, quieter than you’d like, leaving everyone else confused. Between all of the “what”s you hear Steve say your name.

"You know the drill, we download the digital files, save as much of the paper ones as we can and then blow the building up. This one’s no different." he tells you, but you can’t help but disagree.

"I think it is…" you can hear them asking you to explain, so you do, trying to find the right way to say this "I think… I think this is the first base they took James to." you say, still talking quietly but loud enough for them to hear.

The comms go silent, everyone processing what you just say, only the sound of battling going on, but you’re only worried about one person.

"James?"

Nothing.

"James, are you okay?" you can’t help but worry, his silence snapping you out of the trance you were in, you close the box you were still staring at and put it safely in your pocket, your hand going to your ear instinctively.

"Bucky?!" He still doesn’t answer.

You hear a bip behind you and Friday lets you know the download is complete, you take the drive and make your way out, your worry only increasing with every step.

"Does anyone have eyes on Barnes?" you ask the rest of the team.

"Oh no." Clint says, and you stop immediately, your heart beating out of your chest.

"What?! You can’t just say ‘oh no’ and not elaborate, Barton!" your mind is going into overdrive, not knowing what to expect.

"I have eyes on him, but you’re not gonna like it."

"What do you mean, Clint?! just say it!" this time Steve is the one to snap at him.

"He’s getting surrounded, it looks like he’s passed out." you swear you can actually feel your heart stopping.

"Can anybody get to him?" you say desperately.

"He’s got maybe 2 minutes before he’s surrounded, everybody’s too far or too busy." yeah, Clint’s really not giving you any good news today.

"Can’t you help him out?!" you almost yell at him.

"Not without hurting him, there are just too many!" he sounds more worried with every word and you know it’s bad. "Technically you’re the closest." He informs you and you frown.

"What do you mean, technically?" You look out the window of the corridor you found yourself in, looking towards the roof and find Clint already looking down at you while he speaks without stopping his aid of the others with his arrows.

"The second window to your left. He’s right under it." you go to said window and try to open it, but it’s closed shut.

"These windows are bulletproof, Clint can you break it somehow?"

"I can, but you could get hu-"

"Just do it!" you yell, cutting him off.

You can see him aim an arrow to the window, it hits its target and you can hear Clint counting down from 3 before it shatters.

You take no time to be careful of the glass as you take a little disk from your belt and press the button while pointing it at the ground.

A rope shoots out of it and anchors to the floor and, while attaching the other end to the back of your suit, you make a mental note to thank Tony for always updating your tactical suits with new useful gadgets.

You leap out the window, landing with your feet on the wall, basically running down on it as you take out your guns and start shooting down at the now dumbfounded agents.

Before they can even figure out where the shooting is coming from, you're on the ground next to Bucky, cutting the rope with a knife, then stabbing the agent closest to you.

You’re punching, kicking and shooting, trying your best not to get too far away from Bucky, basically shielding him with your body.

You hear a faint ‘holy shit’ from Clint and the other’s voices come through but you can’t follow the conversation, your whole focus on keeping Bucky safe.

You stray a little too far away from him as you do the take down move Natasha taught you on one of the agents, your legs around his neck as you bring him down to the ground.

When you turn around you see one guy getting dangerously close to Bucky’s unconscious body and you feel a sudden burst of possessiveness throughout your own body.

"He’s mine." you basically growl, taking a knife from the body of the guy you just took down and throwing it.

It lodges perfectly in his throat and he goes down right away, blood pouring out of him. You have no time to be disgusted as you keep taking down agents and, one after the other, they all drop.

The second the last one touches the ground, you're kneeling down next to Bucky.

"Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please don't be dead..." you keep repeating, looking for the button on his tactical suit that monitors his health. Again, thanks Tony. You find it and press it "Friday, vitals."

"Heartbeat detected." the AI says and you immediately let out a breath of relief, not even knowing when you started holding your breath. "Head injury detected, possible concussion. Various cuts throughout his body. No other injuries detected."

It could be worse.

You give yourself a second to breathe while looking at Bucky, then talk into your comm, not taking your eyes off of him.

"Ok, guys, uhm... Bucky’s ass may be cute but it’s heavy. I’m gonna need a hand here." you hear some snickers and then Clint’s voice. "Cap and Sam are on their way."

You’re still looking at Bucky, almost worried that the second you take your eyes off of him his heartbeat is gonna stop, when you hear footsteps behind you and, almost automatically, you grab a knife next to your foot and throw it.

You hear it before you see it, the metal of the knife hitting Cap’s shield before he lowers it and, his face shocked and glad for his fast reflexes, he says "Relax, it’s just us."

"Sorry, I’m a little jumpy."

"Gee, wonder why." Sam says sarcastically as you turn back to Bucky.

"Just take James to the jet, Sam."

"Why do I have to carry his ass?" he whines like a child.

"Because you can fly, birdbrain, you’ll get there before we make it to the front gate." you’re almost irritated at this point, but when you turn to the duo and Sam gives you an unimpressed look, you sigh and try to calm down.

"Sorry, just… take him to safety. Please." Your voice is soft now, Bucky’s well-being the only thing on your mind. Sam picks up on your concern and gets serious, moving towards Bucky to pick him up.

"I’ll take him to the jet. See you guys there." and with that, he takes off.

You watch him go for a second before you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning around to see Steve’s equally concerned face.

"Relax, you heard Friday, he’s gonna be fine. Even if he does have a concussion the serum will heal him in an instant." you know he's right, thanks to the serum his bones heal overnight, a concussion is nothing.

But still, you can’t help the worry you feel.

"I’ll relax when he’s awake and I can see he’s fine." he’s about to say something back when you hear Tony’s voice in your ear.

"If you two are done making out about it, we really should be getting out of here." you roll your eyes and smile a little at the pink color Steve’s cheeks were turning while you start making your way to the front courtyard of the base where Natasha and Tony are still holding off the remaining Hydra agents that just seemed to keep coming.

The second he sees you both giving them a hand, Tony takes off towards the roof. "Incoming, Robin Hood, get ready for take off."

This is your cue to get to the jet, Steve, Natasha and you making your way to the front gate while still fighting, the remaining agents scrambling away the second the explosions inside the building start.

You all get to the jet and, after making sure everyone’s inside, Steve turns to Clint. "Take us home, Barton." he merely nods and makes his way to the pilot's seat, immediately taking off.

You make a beeline to where Bucky’s lying on a gurney, still unconscious.

"How is he?" you ask Bruce without taking your eyes away from the super soldier’s face.

"He’s okay, his cuts are already starting to heal themselves, so should be his head injury. He should wake up maybe within the hour, two tops." you nod and make your way to the chair beside his bed, taking his right hand in both of yours. 

You don’t know why you do that, now that you think about it you’ve probably not even touched Bucky in general more than a handful of times.

You’re not the closest of friends, you work well together in the field and get along outside of it, you hang out in group settings such as game and movie nights, team trainings and the team-building outings Tony forces everybody to go on, but that’s about it.

The lack of one on one interactions, though, didn’t help you escape your growing crush for the long-haired super soldier. You just can’t help the warm feeling you get every time he’s even in the same room, let alone when he looks at you.

You can hide it when you’re in mission mode, always being professional, but the second it happens in a normal setting like the living room or the kitchen or the gym you turn into a flustered schoolgirl, stumbling over your words and blushing every time you have his attention.

You’ve convinced yourself he doesn’t notice, if he has he hasn’t said anything, but for your own piece of mind you pretend he just doesn’t.

Sometimes it seems like he does it on purpose, though. He’d get close enough that you can smell his cologne and basically feel his body heat.

Sometimes his hands hover on your waist while he passes by you, never actually touching you but just close enough to make you almost pass out at the feeling.

And you can swear you can see a smirk on his face, but it always disappears so fast it’s just easier to convince yourself you’re imagining it.

He would have the most innocent face while asking you if something’s wrong, and all you can answer with is a small ‘I’m fine’ before basically running away, never once seeing the smug look on his face at the flustered state only he manages to put you in.

You’re brought out of your head by Steve’s hand on your shoulder, again, as he says "he’s gonna be fine."

"It’s my fault…" you say quietly, ignoring his attempt at comforting you.

"It’s not y-" you interrupt him before he can even finish.

"Yes, it is. I distracted him." You say firmly before your voice softens. "They were so close to getting him, Steve..."

You can’t take your eyes off of Bucky, almost willing him to wake up, so you could apologize. "Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if they got to him? What they could’ve done to him…" you trail off, not wanting to voice all the possibilities out loud.

Of course you know Steve knows. He worries more than you for Bucky, his best friend, basically his brother, the only family he has left from his past life.

But Steve is having none of it.

"You wanna play the blame game? He wasn’t even supposed to be on this mission, but I couldn’t stop him. He knew what it entailed, he knew it was a base full of hydra agents, but he didn’t back down because it was the right thing to do. He wants to do good and help us take down Hydra for good, he knows the risks but it was his choice. You can’t take that on you." Logically you know he's annoyingly right, again, but looking at Bucky laying motionless you can’t help the guilt that creeps up on you. 

"Friday," you say quietly, ignoring Steve’s confused look "play the footage of Bucky before he passed out coupled with the audio from our comms."

The hologram on the table in the middle of the jet lights up and Bucky’s figure can be seen fighting, then you can hear your own voice telling your theory to the group and Bucky halts for a second, he almost gets punched but avoids it at the last second, hitting the guy with his metal arm.

Steve turns to you with a smug look, knowing he was right, but you raise your hand before he can say anything and keep watching.

You see Bucky fighting and hear yourself calling his name and you can see his eyes rolling when you call him James. He’s asked you countless times to call him Bucky, but you always refuse, not sure why.

All you know it’s that it kind of annoys him but in a different way than when Sam or Peter annoy him, you can tell he’s not actually upset, it’s kind of your own little thing with him seeing as he doesn’t allow anyone else call him by his first name.

You can see Bucky still fighting and ignoring you, but when he hears you call him “Bucky” for the first time he stops, right as an agent is throwing a punch.

You see Bucky get hit in the jaw, stumble and fall, his head hitting the wall behind him pretty hard. He doesn’t get up, but you see the last agent standing get taken out by an arrow, Clint you assume.

You can hear your alarmed conversation with Clint as more agents slowly creep up on Bucky, probably being cautious, worried he could wake up any second, then there’s the sound of bullets flying and agents getting hit.

Suddenly you’re there.

You take your eyes off the screen, about to tell Steve that even he can’t deny now that it was your fault, but the whole team's attention was on the footage of you mercilessly taking out man after man, even Clint’s there watching after putting the jet on autopilot.

The look on your face frightening to the point where you almost don’t recognize yourself.

You don’t want to relive the moment, so you shift your attention back on Bucky, your hands still holding onto his.

You can hear Clint’s “holy shit” and then your “he’ mine” and you feel yourself heat up at the possessiveness in your voice.

The video gets paused and you can hear Tony asking "what the fuck was that?" his voice clearly amused, and you know what he’s asking you.

Before you can answer though, you feel Bucky’s hand squeeze yours softly, your eyes snaps down to it and then to his face while getting up from your chair.

He’s mumbling something that sounds very similar to your name but his eyes are still closed.

"James?" he slowly opens his eyes and they instantly find yours, a smile forming on his face that you can’t but mirror.

"How do you feel, Buck?" Steve asks him from beside you.

"Like I got hit really hard in the head." he groans while he tries to sit up, his hand still holding onto yours while you help him.

"Take it easy," Bruce tells him while stopping next to him on his other side "you probably don’t have a concussion, but I’d put some ice on your head to help with the headache."

"I’ll get it." you let go of Bucky, and walk to the mini freezer to get the ice pack.

Bucky takes a moment to look around him, his eyes landing on the screen where you’re frozen mid-fight.

"Friday, unpause the video." he says, curiosity taking over.

He watches you fight, protecting him with your life and he swears he’s never been more in awe in his life. He sees you get on your knees next to him and hears your whispers, praying for him to be okay, over and over.

He sees the relief in your face when Friday tells you he’s alive and he hears you call his ass “cute” as you ask the others for help, making him smile again.

"Friday, stop the footage." you say, ice in your hands but maintaining a safe distance from Bucky, embarrassed that he saw how worried you were for him.

You stand there in silence for a second while Bucky turns to look at you, the smirk on his face definitely real. You blush, cursing your body for how it reacts to his gaze, while Steve clears his throat.

"Why don’t we give you guys a minute..." he ushers everyone to the front of the jet, almost having to wrestle Tony to take him away from what he called 'his new favorite show'.

Bucky extends his right hand for you to take and you do as you get closer, your left hand going to carefully place the ice on the back of his head.

He hisses a little at the contact and you wince, giving him an apologetic smile, but his eyes never leave yours and his hand squeezes yours, letting you know he’s okay.

"I’m sorry." That's all you can say and, whatever you were expecting him to answer, it was definitely not what he says next.

"You should be." you bite your lip to stop it from trembling, your emotions getting the best of you and your guilt only growing, but he keeps going, "You distracted me. You’ve never said my name before, and it was the sweetest sound to ever come out of your mouth. Shame on you for keeping it from me for so long, doll."

He brings you closer to him, taking your hand in his left, his right going around your waist as he rests his chin on your stomach while looking up at you, your left hand still holding the ice to the back of his head.

You giggle at the puppy look he’s giving you, trying to resist the urge of leaning down and kissing him.

"Smooth, Barnes." he laughs with you, before growing more serious.

"You looked really worried." you feel your emotions bubbling up again.

"I was…" you say, your voice small "I’m sorry you got hurt because of me" you're basically whispering, afraid that if you raise your voice any louder the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold off will start falling.

"It’s not your fault, doll." before you can protest, he keeps going "and I’m fine. We’re all fine. I just took a little nap."

You roll your eyes at his attempt at a joke but can’t hide the smile starting to form on your face while he gives you a grin of his own.

You're so lost in his eyes that you almost forget about the reason all of this happened.

You let go of his hand and he gives you a confused look with a slight pout on his lips that just makes you smile more.

"Bucky," you start, taking the little box out of your pocket, but he interrupts you with an exaggerated gasp.

"Are you asking me to marry you, doll? Because, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but maybe we should go on a date first." you can't help but laugh as you gave him a little shove, careful not to hurt him more.

"I’m not asking you to marry me, you jackass." you get more serious as you look at the box in your hand.

You don’t even realize you're biting your lip until Bucky reaches up and tugs it out. You look back at him and feel weirdly nervous, not knowing how he'll react.

"I found this at the base, and I’m pretty sure it belongs to you" you laugh a little out of nerves as he lets go of you to take the box and opens it.

He lets out a real gasp this time, fishing out the tags and holding them in his flesh hand, his face unreadable.

He looks back up at you and for a second your brain goes to the worst case scenario in which there's a lot of blood and screaming, but that image is quickly forgotten as Bucky gives you the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.

He places his hands behind your thighs and effortlessly moves you to straddle him, his movements so fast that you drop the ice pack out of surprise, but you don’t have time to do much as Bucky starts peppering kisses all over your face.

Your surprise turns into giggles and he slowly stops his assault, the smile never living his face, the look on his eyes that of pure adoration. "Thank you, doll… You don’t know what this means to me."

You don’t know if you’re imagining it, but you think Bucky’s starting to lean up and you think he’s about to kiss you when you hear a whistle followed by a slapping sound and an “ow”.

You both turn towards the sound to find the whole team looking at you two, Steve has a smirk on his face, Tony’s next to him, rubbing the back of his head and the rest of them are snickering.

"Seriously?!" your irritation does nothing to hide your blush, Bucky’s own embarrassment clear as he hides his face in your chest. 

"What? Capsicle said a minute, we gave you a minute!" Tony said, earning another slap on the back of his head from Steve.

"Just go away!" you say laughing and they all go back to the front of the jet but you can hear their little laughs while they whisper, making you roll your eyes before looking down at Bucky who’s already looking up at you.

"Can you do me a favor, doll?" he asks you and you nod.

"Anything."

"I’d hate to lose these. Hold on to them for me?" he says, holding up his dog tags.

"Are you sure?" you ask uncertainly as he puts them around your neck.

"I’m more than sure." he says while looking at them on your chest and then looking back into your eyes, his smile impossibly big and you’re sure yours looks the same.

He wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer and you wrap one arm around his neck, your other hand going to play with the tags around your neck. You’re looking down at them when Bucky speaks again.

"So," He starts, his smile becoming a teasing smirk. "you think my ass is cute, huh?"

You groan, hiding your face in the crook of his neck while he laughs at your reaction.

You can hear the others laughing too and can’t help the laugh that comes out of you, more sure now than ever that everything is gonna be okay.

[darlingdarkly]

Fates Worse Than Death part 3

Deimos x f!reader noncon Enemies to Lovers

5.6k words

CW: noncon!elements, dubcon!elements, electrocution (non sexual), bondage, unprotected climactic pnv intercourse, threats of forced impreg, breeding kink

Part: 1, 2, 4

It was early when he left, Reveille hadn’t even blared its siren song to give rise to the base and its inhabitants. It was almost dreamlike in the way he came to you, soft and sweet in pulling you from the depths of your slumber. He left your mask on and you were grateful for it, without your sight it was easier to let the roles slip, just take it as it presented itself without the clouded lenses of your predicament.

So when he leaned down and lightly shook you awake you came up gently as the cot dipped to accommodate his weight. “I’m going, sugarcane.” You groaned and when you spoke, voice sleep strained and groggy and he saw your arms strain against the straps as you attempted to lift up and touch him made him wish to call the whole thing off, who gave a shit about meetings when he could just undo your straps, pick you up bridal style and carry you over to his bed where you belonged, lay in bed all day and make love to you over and over and over.

But it’s easy to forget the kitten has claws when she’s like this, it’d do not to forget she’s not as docile as she presents. “What time is it?” His fingers trail up your arm, the gloved pads of his digits swirling nonsensical patterns on your warm skin. “Early. 4:30. You can go back to sleep, I’ve arranged for someone to come in and help you out of your restraints and feed you, you’ll be staying up here until I return. I’ve got a surprise lined up for you later today.” He stops speaking and you feel one glove come up and smooth your hair, his thumb sweeping back and forth over the errant strands on your forehead.

“Be good for me.” You almost wish you could be but you won’t and deep down you both know you have to play the game so he says it and he means it but it doesn’t mean he believes you when you say you will. He spends a few more fleeting moments lingering in this early morning light, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your temple, one that cut through all the bullshit and made its way to the core. It was a message, a last plea, stay, be good, I know this is fucked but it could work couldn’t it? We both feel this, behind the roles and twisted implications, who gives a fuck how it started?

Then he was gone and you drifted off until Reveille woke up an entirely different woman than Deimos had kissed on his way out the door. A few minutes later someone entered the room and pulled the mask from your eyes. It was short and stocky and he looked as pissed off to see you as you were to see him. Obviously though, Deimos had had some sort of chat with him about his manners because he was on his best behavior as he carefully undid your straps.

It wasn’t time yet so you stayed compliant, sitting up on the cot and waiting for him to back away before standing and heading for the bathroom. He didn’t watch you like Deimos had as you showered but he was right outside of the door and frisked you a bit too thoroughly as you stepped out, dressed and ready for the day.

He left the room and you alone in it as he went to get breakfast for you. It was the first time you really got a good look at your surroundings. The room was double big, like it was really two rooms where the wall separating them had been knocked down. The walls were papered in deep red scroll and his bed took up the center of his section of the room. There wasn’t much else to speak of, a few dressers and a wardrobe against the far wall, a desk with a few pens in a cup on its mahogany surface. Your section of the room was even barer, just your cot and four empty walls, though they were also papered in dark red scroll.

It wasn’t long before short and stocky came back, tray in hand as he plopped it unceremoniously on the desk in Deimos’s section of the room, it didn’t topple over but the contents spilled out of their sections into each other and the juice you were meant to drink knocked over and spilled out over the wood. He looked you dead in the eye before turning and leaving.

You were glad for the way things turned out later on. You stood from the cot and made your way over to the desk, while the juice was off the table (more like all over the table) the food was still edible and after retrieving a towel from the cabinet in the bathroom and cleaning up his mess, you ate everything eagerly, you’d need every bit of it to escape. When you’d finished you knocked on the door and he came back to retrieve the tray.

“Good, you cleaned up your mess. Good to know he’s teaching you something useful other than how to take his cock.” You don’t even bother with a response, let it sink into your skin, you’ll get your licks back and they’ll be far more rewarding as actions rather than words. He isn’t quite done yet though.

“What? Nothing to say? You’re no spitfire. Whatever he sees in you is bullshit and he’ll know it soon and when he does I hope he lets me pull the trigger on you. I wanna watch the life drain from your eyes as I’m the last thing you see.” That seems to satisfy him and he leaves believing he’s the one on the high note. That's fine, let him. The morning passes slow and you try to retrace the plan in your brain, check it once, twice, three times for flaws. There is no alternative, no plan B. If this didn’t pan out your way, if anything went wrong, your goose was cooked.

It wasn’t until after lunch that you decided Deimos was probably far enough away that if something went awry it would at least take him some time to get back, enough time for you to get far enough away to have a chance at disappearing. You could link back up with rainbow after you’d meshed into the closest population dense city. Short and stocky had just left with your empty lunch tray as you bent down and pulled your paper clip free from its shoe home and unbent it to turn it into a shabby but functional lock pick. The outer doors of the facility were far too heavy duty for your little makeshift tool, but the door out of this room was all you needed unlocked for your escape.

You got up off the bed and walked to the solid wooden door, pressing your ear up against it to hear any activity on the other side. It was silent and still as far as you could tell so you bent down and set to work, carefully raking the paper clip around inside the lock mechanism to try and jostle the tumblers. It was a slow, tedious process but after a few minutes work the lock clicked and the knob turned freely.

You stepped cautiously out of the doorway and out into the hall. Short and stocky stood at the top of the stairs with his back to you, this was your chance. You strode forward with careful purpose, trying to stay as quiet as possible while moving as quickly as you could, if he saw you now it’d be a fight and one you’d probably lose.

He started to turn and you took the last few strides in a run, the element of surprise nearly lost as you pushed him with all your body weight and watched almost in slow-mo as he careened over the edge of the stairs, arms pinwheeling to prevent his fall but it was no use.

His side made first contact with the concrete stairs, producing four audible, gut wrenching cracks that seared white hot pain up his spine and knocked the air from his lungs. He continued to tumble, rolling over once, twice, and landing awkwardly on his right forearm at an acute angle. It’s there he heard another pop as his arm took the brunt of the fall and he landed in an agitated heap, screaming mad and hell bent on killing you when he got to his feet.

But before he could you were on him, the last thing he saw was your fist coming down on his temple, ironically knocking him out the very same way he’d threatened on the night of your capture and then all went dark.

You had to act quickly now, it was possible someone could have heard the commotion or would come up here for anything at any time so you stepped over him and raced down the last three flights of stairs and carefully made your way across the sky deck, head once again bent between your knees.

Entering the main building you had to act quickly, it was imperative that you avoided being seen until you changed, you were the only person on base wearing a skin tight jumpsuit and everyone would know you’d escaped upon first glance. Ducking into a particular side room you’d eyed the last time you’d made this trek with Deimos, you found what you were looking for.

It was an old supply room, dusty and mostly unused it was full of stores of toilet paper and cleaning supplies, a stack of desks, a few empty filing cabinets and what you came here for. In a box on the floor, a sight you gazed upon by chance after a soldier stepped in for a rack of toilet paper as you were passing by and stored away for this particular moment, was a pile of old uniforms. They were musty and it took you three separate sets to find ones that weren’t either covered in mildew or faded and the ones you finally settled on were about two sizes too big but they’d do.

You slipped them on over your clothes, you couldn’t risk another soldier dipping in for toilet paper and wanted to leave as soon as possible to avoid either short and stocky waking up or someone coming across him. This was a mistake you came to regret later, but hindsight is always 20/20.

You strode out of the supply closet in no rush, a patrol cap pulled down low over your eyes as you casually but briskly made your way towards the doors of the facility. You depressed the bar on one of the heavy metal doors and pushed out into the warm air. You surveyed the outer compound with scrutiny and found everyone tucked into tight groups, no lone wolves, which meant if you were going to get out of here without being singled out immediately you had to blend.

You spotted a set of soldiers by the gate, rifles in hand and more than likely headed for the gun range you’d heard but never had seen. You walked out with purpose and snagged two empty ammo cans from a stack by the wall and stuck yourself in the group, making sure to linger around the back so as not to draw too much unwanted attention.

The platoon leader called attention and you snapped to, the action just as much instinct as it was disguise. When he calls forward march you begin to move, keeping pace with the group and keeping your head down. You pass under the gate with the weight of nervous anticipation balancing precariously on your shoulders, expecting at any moment the call to halt from above but it never came and you marched out past it and onto a trail through the woods without hiccup.

When the gates were too far back and concealed by foliage to see you dropped off from the group, simply sliding behind a tree until their footfalls became too distant to hear. You left the ammo cans behind and sprinted out into the trees. From what you could remember there was nothing for miles around, just endless forest but you knew there was a little town about twenty miles south and if you could keep up a relative jog you could make it there just after nightfall.

You took a few glances back to make sure you weren’t being trailed but all you could see was empty forest. Your heart pounded with excitement but you knew better than to let it get the better of you, there was still much danger ahead and endless-

Your muscles locked up violently, legs stopping mid step and freezing as white hot pain zapped down your neck, coursing through your spine and consuming you from within. You called out involuntarily, a guttural pained scream that started and seemed to never end until all your breath was expelled and it died out in a hoarse croak. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stand, couldn’t move and you heard the wail of a siren sound back in the direction of the base.

You stretched an arm out in the direction of safety, willing your body to crawl towards it with the last of your might, but it stayed put in stubborn defiance. The sight of the pines swaying in the wind, their dark green needles seeming to reach out for you was the last thing you saw before darkness stole over you.

When you wake it’s like waking in a dream, a dream you've dreamt before, fundamentally the same but different slightly. The pain is back, though then it was head driven, a throb radiating almost solely from your cranium but this is different. This feels like static but everywhere. Your nerves are shot to shit, jittery and fried, your fingers and toes tingle and there’s a metallic taste in your mouth.

You try to take in your surroundings when the feeling finally subsides a bit, fading out from forefront surround sound until it’s just background noise at best, though it still roars in and out of focus. It’s the same room you’d woken up in the night you were captured, only this time instead of tied kneeling to a padded platform you’re tied to a table, face up and completely naked, arms hoisted up past your head and secured to the northern legs of the table. Your body is stretched out across the top, eyes up skyward looking at the dingy ceiling. Your legs are spread, each tied to a seperate southern table leg to keep them that way, your ass is pulled to the edge of the table and as you crane your head south you can see him watching you from between your spread legs.

It was you who broke the silence first. “We can’t keep meeting like this.” He comes up and stands between your legs and he makes it obvious by the crane of his head that his eyes are trailing up every inch of your body, taking in the sights and landmarks along the path to your eyes before he even speaks.

“Cute. You think now's the time for jokes, eh?” You try to not think about what comes next. You’re naked, which means you’re probably not going to die just yet but it doesn’t mean he won't cut you down at any time past this point, maybe he was just waiting for you to be awake. Your only solace is that short and stocky won’t get to pull the trigger on you, you made sure of that.

“Just couldn’t be good for me, could you?” You flinch as his hand glides up your thighs to palm your hip, the padding gripping the flesh rather roughly. “What did you expect?” And he can’t help but feel pride under all the disappointment because you’re still cocky and fierce as all hell even tied to a table and completely at his mercy, and there’s something in that that makes his combat pants just a bit too snug for his liking.

“Not for you to put Vasquez in the infirmary with four cracked ribs and a fractured ulna.” You scoffed. “If I disappointed you then I’m soooo sorry but one thing I’m not sorry for is anything that happened to that fucking asshole, he got what he deserved and you’re lucky he’s in the hospital and not the morgue.”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me. You’re already in deep fucking shit.” And his use of curse words make you flinch, you can only recall a handful of times he’d cursed and never had he done it in anger but it doesn’t change anything. If he was pissed off then good, so were you.

“The shock collar was a low blow. Kinda barbaric don’t you think?”

“Worked though, didn’t it? I knew you’d run eventually. It’s ok, I’m not mad. It’s only in your nature.” The way he says it piques something in the back of your mind but he glosses right over it, almost like he’s speaking to himself.

“It did cut my meeting short but that really could have been an email anyway. But you know terrorist organizations, always wary of the digital footprint. You’re not off the hook though. Violent outbursts, escape attempts, lies. Ohh you’ve got a lot to atone for.” He gave your hip a painful squeeze but you held your tongue against the groan it threatened to elicit. When he stopped you felt it safe to speak.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He moves away from you and somehow feel less secure with him wandering about the room than if he’d stood put beside you. You vaguely hear the shuffle of papers and your heart stops when you hear him call out your full name.

“Standard checkups, vaccination records, routine physicals, psych evals, two hospitalizations, one for an apparent appendectomy the other outpatient surgery for the removal of shrapnel from your abdomen and left thigh.” You tensed as he read you your medical file and your breath hitched as he called out the last procedure on the list.

“Ahhh and last but not least an IUD procedure completed just two months ago.” You started to get angry, the familiar heat of it almost comforting. Almost.

“You scalped my file?!”

“You’re not the only one with friends in low places, sweetheart.”

You considered it momentarily but was still unsure what it changed or why it mattered. “So what? It’s not a pill, I didn’t lie to you I just withheld some truth, what the fucks it matter?”

“So what is you didnt fucking tell me.” And there was the cursing again and this time it was punctuated with a loud bang as he drove his fist into the metal table your file had been resting on. You’re unsure why he’s angry, could he really believe you had some kind of rapport? It seemed like he did, and maybe that’s when it all snaps into place for you, this isn’t some elaborate psychological tactic, it’s not a ruse. He genuinely is keeping you just to have you for himself and it's then you realize you won’t die, there’s never been any danger of death. He’s not keeping you out of spite, you can’t annoy him enough to end you. It doesn’t matter how many times you run away he will drag you back to heel like some kind of wild dog because he’s just insane enough to try and tame you.

“So now.. I have to figure out what to do with you.” He walks back towards you and you can feel his eyes on you, making your skin erupt with gooseflesh, he walks up the side of the table and brushes the side of your face with the palm of his hand, lightly cupping it. You stare up into the obsidian lenses of his mask, unsure how to act. You can’t see his eyes but just know somehow past those black panes he’s staring down at you so tenderly and the weight of that fact sits uncomfortably on your chest.

After a moment he speaks again. “Since you’re so desperate for release, you’ll get none. I need you to understand your actions have consequences and I will see to it personally that you learn.”

After a moment you understand he means to fuck you again and shortly after that the innuendo dawns on you as well and you just laugh. “What the fuck makes you think I’ll do anything you say?”

“You want incentive? How about if you’re good and you take your punishment like a good girl, I’ll see to it that you get some training, opportunities to stretch your legs a bit? Obviously you’re restless, pent up animalistic tendencies, I can understand that. If you’re good, I’ll make it happen.”

The fucking audacity of him to think you’ll accept treats for parlor tricks. Like some kind of dog you’ll just roll over for belly pats. “Screw you! You bastard! Let me fucking go!”

And then his hand goes from stroking your cheek to gripping it, the thumb digging into the soft flesh of your cheek while the rest of his fingers line your jaw, pursing your lips together and preventing any more lip.

“Not enough for ya? You wanna act like a brat? Fine. How about this? Either you do as I say or I’ll take you down to the infirmary. The IUD procedure is simple enough and so is the removal.”

Your eyes widen and even through the grip he’s got on your maw you threaten him, eyes burning up at him like hot coals. He can feel the heat. “You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“Ohh, I think you’d be surprised at the things I’d dare. If I feel you so much as twitch around my cock I’ll have them take it out and then we’ll see about starting our own little family together, huh? I’ve always wanted to be a dad but have just never found the time to get around to it, better late than never though, right? I mean, surely you’re confident enough in your fertility to justify the need for protection, I’m sure you’ll make a fine mother. Whaddaya say, sugarcane? How’s your maternal instincts?”

You struggle in the bonds and slip out of his grip, pulling viciously at the ropes but they just cut harder into your skin, the harsh woven fibers biting voraciously into your flesh. “No! Don’t you fucking dare!”

He regains purchase, this time around your throat and he can feel your pulse beating wildly, even through his glove. “Then do as I say.”

You stop struggling, for one because the ropes feel like they’re starting to draw blood and two because he’s let you go in favor of drawing down towards the southern end of the table. Fingers tracing lightly down your side and then back up the other until his fingers skim along the soft length of your inner thighs and you’re left hanging in anticipation as he spreads your thighs further apart to slot himself between them as they travel higher and higher.

The pads of his fingers find your clit and press ever so slightly over the bundle of nerves, drawing lazy circles over it and you can’t help the tensing of your muscles, the way your eyes squeeze shut as you fight the sensation. He plays with it, unrelenting until your arousal starts to well up around the edges of your slit, his fingers drawing down to gather it and spread it generously around.

You inhale sharply as your nipples pebble, hard and aching to be touched. He notices and brings the hand not driving you slowly into madness up to pinch one and roll it between his index and thumb. Your back arches and his fingers leave your breast to encircle your neck, squeezing the sides lightly to capture your attention.

When your eyes fall on him he speaks, and you can hear the apparent arousal in the gravel of his voice, hear the way his eagerness bleeds through, pining to have you again. “Show me you can practice restraint. Show me your self discipline. Don't disappoint me, soldier.”

His fingers push into you slightly for the first time and the edges of your vision blur as your mouth falls open at the dubiously welcomed intrusion. You didn’t need to see his eyes to know they were locked on yours watching your reactions with careful scrutiny. “Be good for me.”

He pulls out just as fast as he’d pushed in and then he’s gone for a moment, you hear him easing out of his tac pants just enough to pull his cock free and you close your eyes, willing your mind to relax and resist. But when he nudges up to you with the head of his cock, flicking it through the part of your sex and coating it in your slick heat you wonder just how much resolve you have in you.

He leans down over you as he pushes into you in one fluid thrust and you moan with him, unable to stifle it, the sweet ache intoxicating. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t give you time to adjust or catch your breath, just uses you with little to no care for how you fare it. His thrusts even out into a steady rhythm as his hands find purchase on the table you’re tied to and something about feeling him thrust up into you without any other contact, the push and pull of his cock without the feel of his hands on you has your eyes rolling back in your head until you have to squeeze them shut to try and regain the reins of your sanity.

You try and weather the storm, really try to focus on anything other than the devastating drive of his hips but it’s almost impossible. And then you feel his thumb over your clit again and your eyes fly open as the sensation makes you clench around him involuntarily, your arms pull at the ropes, desperate to push his hands away because if he keeps it up you’re not gonna make it.

And then he starts to speak. “You did this to us. Could’ve come back and taken my time with you, could’ve been good and I’d have spent all night just like this, fucked you good and raw til you screamed my name but you had to try. Had to test my patience.”

You try and block out the words, shake your head back and forth to try and not hear him but you can’t and it just adds fuel to the flame and he notices but doesn’t relent. He can tell by the shake of your thighs and the way you’re digging your nails into the palms of your own hands that you’re struggling to cope. He picks up speed a bit and your mouth drops open, prompting a sweet low moan to escape and he wishes he’d blindfolded you before he started because all he wants to do is drink up every single sound before it has a chance to leave your throat, swallow them down to keep them all to himself.

You’re gripping him so sweetly, the clutch of your pussy unlike anything he’d felt in a long, long time and he’d be damned if he’d give you up now. There’s not a thing on this planet that could separate the two of you, not even you. He’d love to see you try, really truly try to keep him from you. He’d never stop, never stop clawing his way back into your life no matter how hard you ran. He’d always find you, in this life and the next.

He can feel it too, the effect he’s having on you. He can feel it in the way your pussy clenches around him, can hear it in your back talk and banter, he knows you’re doomed, even if you don’t and he’s gonna enjoy every second of your downfall, every little slip of your grasp of sanity and reality until the only thing left is him.

His thrusts get particularly heavy, hips punctuating his point as he growls down from above you. “You will be mine.” You’ve lost, you know it. You try and fight it but he’s hitting it so good, cock dragging over that spot that makes your toes curl, there’s no escape and no relief and he knows just what he’s doing. Can feel your ruination coming to fruition and you’re so fucked.

You want to beg, beg him for forgviness, beg him for mercy but you can’t, it’ll just fall on deaf ears and something about it is just too compromising for your pride. Why should you let him know he’s getting to you? Why should you have to kneel at his feet? You’re supposed to be a warrior, a force to be reckoned with, an oddity among women and men for that matter but you’re so fucking close and he knows it and it’s killing you.

“Is it hard, sugarcane? Bet you’re so fucking close. Bet you wanna come for me don’t you?” And he leans in close, pelvis grinding down against you as he keeps up your ruination. His tall frame dwarfs yours and you sigh in relief as his hand finally ceases its assault on your clit to come up and seat itself against the back of your neck, pulling your head up and drawing your forehead against his as his other hand abandons the table for a grip on your hip, pulling you down against him as he thrusts up into you, making the sensation just that much more unbearable, making you cry out just that much louder. He dips down to whisper close against your lips, like he’s about to impart some great secret and he doesn’t want to risk allowing the rest of the room to hear it, empty or not, the shell of his mask so, so close.

“Do it. Let me make you mine in the most ultimate of ways. I’ll take such good care of you and the baby, I swear. Come for me and we’ll start all over.”

You’re quite nearly delirious, holding onto the last of your resolve with bloody fingers. It takes everything in you not to come around his cock, the way it fills you completely, hot and hard is going to be the death of you, or rather the birth of a new you but you can’t. You can’t bare this monsters offspring, he’s a goddamn terrorist for fucks sake and so you hold off until you feel you’re ripping apart at the seams.

You want to succeed but it’s slipping and you’d almost given in to the defeat when he finally comes, you feel it, thick and heavy in you and by god’s mercy he stills and you sob with relief. Chest heaving as your pussy spasms in protest around him. Sweat and tears streak your face as you let out shaky breaths to try and regain your composure. He pulls out and rubs his hands up your body, starting at your hips and gliding up your sides until he’s working at the knot holding your hands above your head.

You feel the ropes loosen but are too overwhelmed to do more than shift them down a bit to alleviate the ache in your shoulders. He says nothing as he comes around the side of the table and scoops you up off of it, pulling you into his chest and cradling you close. You can’t fight him, don’t have the strength so you just rest your head against him and let him carry you all the way out the door.

You shift to get comfortable in his arms as he makes two lefts, and then a right. Closing your eyes and breathing deeply as he climbs two flights of stairs and crosses the sky deck. Burying your head in his chest while he mounts the last four flights before you feel him gently deposit you onto a surface far too comfortable to be the cot.

Only then do you look up at your surroundings. “Bet you didn’t even stay long enough to see my surprise, did you?” His surprise is a queen sized bed, since you’ve been gone it’s been brought in, assembled and made. While it’s nothing fancy, having been carefully checked over with a fine toothed comb for anything that could aid you in another escape attempt, it was very lavish for someone being held prisoner, though you know he doesn’t exactly see you as that even if you still do.

There’s an awkward moment where neither of you knows quite what to say, for some bizarre reason you can’t explain there’s an apology waiting on the tip of your tongue. You won’t say it but it doesn’t mean it’s not there. He reaches up past your head to the metal headboard and pulls down a new set of restraints, they’re long and give you a bit of range as to how much you can move but they’re still restraints.

After you put on another white tee from the seemingly endless supply he has for you, he takes your hands and silently puts on the leather cuffs, securing them. His touch lingers on your wrists even after he’s finished and you feel like he’s about to say something but he doesn’t, just pulls your mask from its place and pulls it down over your eyes. You lie back and get comfortable as he moves away from the bed and undresses.

You listen to the familiar sounds of him sliding into bed and then the room stills and you drift off, until Reveille wakes you in the morn.

[robinsno1lesbian]

𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫!𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝟐

(𝐫.𝐛. 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

neighbor!robin x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: some more older!neighbor!robin headcanons/thoughts.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1500

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content! (MDNI), implied age gap (reader is 18+!!) , finger sucking, fingering, oral, strap ons, orgasm denial, overstimulation, thigh riding, semi-public sex, not proofread (let me know if i missed anything!)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: since some of you wanted a part 2...here we are! (part 1) inspired by/for @lightvixxen because this concept is what gets me through my days <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

neighbor!robin definitely loves to watch you suck her fingers clean after she's fucked you.

she loves the way your tongue slides up and down her digits, cleaning her up.

"such a greedy little thing, taking my fingers like that"

and sometimes she will purposely push them down deeper, watching the way your face changes at that.

robin loves spoiling you;

she always leaves little things in your room while you're out so you end up finding them when you least expect them.

you're just cleaning up the mess under your bed when suddenly you find a little bag with the sweetest set of lacy lingerie.

but you know exactly what to do with it; putting it on underneath your clothes the next time robin comes around.

so that when she chooses to undress you, she will find the little gift she's given you.

"i see, someone found the little present? fuck i knew it would look good on baby"

and of course, she has to fuck you in your new underwear.

minutes after the reveal, you're already spread out on her bed, your legs wrapped around her hips while she's thrusting into you with her strap.

"that's right baby, taking me so well...you look so pretty like that"

she simply loves to fuck you while she can watch you.

like that, she can keep an eye on every little reaction you might have, all while she has her strap buried in your throbbing cunt.

you love to watch robin work in the garden but you love it even more when you run up to her and ask if she needs any help.

you know damn well that you're not helping at all (you don't even know that much about gardening) but watching her doing all the hard work...oh lord-

it's even better when she leans her body against your, her front against your back, puts her hands on top of yours and guides you.

"see? that's how it's supposed to be done. yeah just like that...good girl"

her words, richly layered with double meanings are enough to drive you crazy.

but guess what? that's not all robin has to offer.

because the further she leans against you, the more aware you become of the bulge hidden beneath her wide shorts, that's now pressing firmly against your clothed center.

and she knows by the way your breath hitches and your lashes flutter that you've felt it.

"if you keep doing such a good job i might reward you later, how does that sound?"

you don't even bother to hold in the sinful whimper that follows

she just loves to take you with it; hitting your g-spot so well, while you're turning into a babbling, drooling mess for her, moaning out curses and her name mindlessly.

she just knows how to push your buttons a little too well.

obviously, she uses that fact to her own advantage...

...whispering dirty things in your ear at those little neighborhood gatherings, touching your thighs at inconvenient times, walking past your while you're out with friends, her hand brushing past yours.

you love sleeping over at hers, feeling her hand moving down your body in the middle of the night or early in the morning.

that feeling is enough for you to spread your legs beneath the blankets, mumbling tired curses when her fingers reach your clit.

all while her other hand is covering your mouth.

"the window is open, you know that don't you? want the whole street to hear how good i can make you feel?"

all she really wants is to hear your desperate whimpers. attempts of keeping it quiet but failing miserably.

she loves it when you ride her thigh; showing her just how desperate you are by the way your bare center glides over her skin, coating her in your arousal.

sometimes she yanks you back by the hair because you're just sobbing against her shoulder and she can't see that pretty face of yours.

"look at me when you ride me like that pretty girl. keep your eyes on me, yeah?"

i just know neighbor!robin loves to edge you.

"you cum when i tell you to, understood?"

but, god, it's so hard when she has three fingers pounding into you all while she's talking to you like that.

she doesn't stop until you're practically begging to cum and when you do, she will definitely use that as an excuse to fuck you through multiple orgasms in a row.

"oh but you wanted this, didn't you? now you're gonna fucking take it"

she knows how much you love it when she gets like this.

"you're loving this so much. i can see the way you're dripping all over me. enjoying every second of me fucking you like this. such a dirty slut"

she definitely enjoys fucking you when your house is all empty, making memories in the most inconvenient of all places.

bending you over the dining table and pressing your head down whilst she's thrusting into you.

"can you hear that doll? am i making you feel this good? fuck you've made such a mess..."

sometimes she can't even believe it when she looks down to find your thighs covered in your own wetness.

going down on you in the shower, with one bare leg thrown over her shoulder for better access.

your hands in her hair, just for something to hold onto while she's fucking you into oblivion.

against your own front door, just minutes after your parents have left.

"i promised i would keep an eye on their daughter while they're gone. should probably get started right now don't you think?"

the two of you could literally fuck for hours and you most definitely will at every chance you can get.

and it is not often that you have the whole house to yourselves for the weekend, but when you do it's heaven on earth.

"i want to hear you, baby. talk to me. am i making you feel good...? yeah...?"

she loves it when you can be as loud as you please without anyone hearing.

but there are other ways to achieve that...

sometimes she drives out into the woods with you, only to fuck you in the back of her car and hear your moans for her.

"don't you cover that pretty mouth of yours. no one can hear us out here"

the two of you spend hours out there, you cumming over and over on the backseat of her car while you’re bouncing on her strap.

“kiss me, come on! wanna feel your pretty lips on mine while i make you cum”

robin knows exactly that you can’t. not when you’re completely fucked out like that.

although you try to do it anyway.

the kiss is all tongue and teeth, with your open mouth pressing against hers over and over again.

“poor thing…can’t even kiss me anymore that’s how good you feel. pathetic”

the obscene noises of your squelching pussy and skin meeting skin fills her entire car.

robin loves to take your panties away after she has made you cum.

she loves to see the way you squirm and change your posture to find a way to hide your situation.

how desperately you’re trying to hide the fact that you’re bare under that little skit.

other times, robin sits you down on her lap while you’re watching a movie together.

it starts out as an innocent gesture; she just wants to feel you closer to her.

not long, whatsoever, until you’re rubbing yourself against the length of her leg.

she will pretend not to notice, waiting to see how far you’re willing to go.

and you go far.

just a couple of minutes pass and you have one hand behind you on her stomach to hold you upright, you’re eyes have fallen shut and she’s bouncing her leg against your crotch.

another time, robin walks in on you riding one of her pillows.

she left you for less than 10 minutes to take a shower but apparently that was enough already.

you immediately shove the pillow away from you. you try to hide what you’ve been doing but it’s too late, she’s caught you already.

she’s got a towel wrapped around her lower abdomen, allowing you to see most parts of her body. her hair is still wet and she’s looking at you with a raised brow.

“i-it’s not what it looks like i was just- i was-“

before you can finish your sentence she steps in your space and grabs your chin.

“is that what we’re doing now? humping my pillows while i’m gone?”

humiliation is running through your veins by the way she’s glaring at you, your hips rolling over the pillow on their own accord.

she still has a hold of your chin when your eyes meet again.

“good girl. keep doing that. i wanna see how much of a mess you can make”

you might be robin’s pillow princess for the majority of the time but when you have the chance to give her pleasure it’s everything.

her soft moans and the way she holds onto your hair causes you to rub your thighs together in anticipation

“oh you’re doing such a good job y/n. yeah- yeah right there- fuck good girl”

you always know that she’s the one who is in charge tho.

the way she’s guiding you and grinds down on your tongue leaves not the shadow of a doubt.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated 🫶

[paris-geller-was-straightwashed]

I am about to say something that will probably put a giant fucking target above my head, but against all good reason - I fucking hate this whole 'gaylor' trend.

let's get the facts out right now: 1. I am a non-binary dyke, in case anyone wants to play the queerphobia card 2. I've been a fan of taylor since fearless first came out when I was 11 (before some of you had probably even reached double digits) and 3. yes, this is inspired by the recent ny times article.

honestly I'm usually too much of an old man to be interested in a lot of celebrity news, even for artists I like, so I generally stay clear, but this came through my morning news feed via, bizarrely, ctv (fucking ctv thought this was NEWSWORTHY enough to put on their site which is bonkers, and if you're not canadian, ctv is a nationwide news broadcaster). and it made me livid - because this has now far beyond stretched the line of acceptable.

fucking ny times. this would be perfectly expected for rags like daily soap dish or enquirer or some other bullshit circus, where they spend all their damn days crafting celebrity stories of who's secretly pregnant and who's getting an underground divorce. ny times, in case they fucking forgot, do still have some sort of legitimacy to their name, but I guess they decided they'd run out of enough stories to now outsource to conspiracy theory level fans who's parasocial relationships with their favourite celebrity reaches deity levels. dear ny times, there is actual news still happening in the world in case you're out of ideas.

putting aside this bizarre so called attempt at 'journalism', onto the second point - which is that this. is. gross!! I've had issues with the whole 'gaylor' thing since the start. we, as a fanbase, have seen taylor ripped apart and broken down by this intrusive and harmful celeb culture that analyzes her every move for who she might be seeing, who's she interested in, which male friend could be a potential partner, etc etc, over and over, and how it's been both damaging to her and her love life as she's said. fans have even criticized the media for it and said to leave taylor alone! but now, all of a sudden, just bc you're a fan or bc you're queer or both, it's okay??? it fucking boggles my mind when so-called 'gaylor' fans gush about her and her work, always at her defense and say they care about her, and then do this 180 where they partake in a super invasive thing at her expense and don't even blink an eye??? making your own guesses by yourself is one thing, but creating a whole plot around the fact of taylor secretly being gay and pushing her to come out is a whole other ballroom of nuts.

let's get this out onto the table - she hates this. she doesn't like that you guys do this. she's already stated so and you all keep doing it. just because you're replacing the male character with a female one doesn't mean shit when you're doing the same harmful activity, just switching pronouns. you're not subverting anything, in case any of you need to be told. as a queer fan, this is embarrassing. it is such a gross over-stepping of someone's private life, and now that the goddamn ny times have posted it about it, makes the behavior even more legitimized!! while nothing excuses homophobia, if taylor eventually starts distancing herself from anything and all things queer and starts pushing back, I don't want to see any fucking one of you crying bc it'd be your own damn fault.

thirdly, even if, even if, taylor was gay - it's none of our fucking business!!! it's like all you up and completely blanked out what it was like to be closeted. if you're staying closeted, it's because you're not ready to come out!!! you don't want to or it's not a good time for you or whatever there doesn't need to be any reason for why someone doesn't want to say they're gay!!! it's hard enough trying to make that choice, and then you have the rest of the whole world posting ''''articles'''' about your sexuality, putting a million pairs of eyes on you - fuck, that'd send me back ten more layers into the closet if it happened to me! it's super rude not only to discuss someone's sexuality like it's the weather over brunch, but even worse to demand they say something about it! this is queer etiquette 101 people - you don't run around gossiping about someone's sexuality bc whatever that person decides they doesn't need your fucking input!!

basically if I could spray you all with a spray bottle I fucking would right now - nobody needs your input on their sexuality, celebrity or non! all this does is perpetrate harmful celebrity gossip that just hurts the artist you claim to love so much. taylor is a real person with a real life, she's not a storybook character to speculate over! please, I am begging you, stop this! go outside! touch grass!!

and at the risking of being meme-ified, leave taylor alone!

[gardens-light]

Wild Party

After a rowdy fight with Eddie, Venom leaves and wonders into the nightlife of San Francisco. Forgetting arguments and troubles, Venom finds freedom in an nightclub, hidden away from the usual hustle and bustle. There was many things he unexpected to experience that night, and one of them was you...

Content- Nothing much, just fluff/smut.

Part 2

"Ugh! Another one bites the dust!."

Exiting the temporary host, leaving the poor man doubling over and throwing up on the side of the road. Venom moved onto another host, taking full control over them and showing his true self to the world.

Entering a night club which was somewhat hidden in a nearby ally. Venom walked in and entered the crowd. Costumed people of all sorts of characters danced out of sink to the strobe lights, and club music. Venom towered over them all, witnessing a sea of various costumes, nearly all accessorised in glow-sticks.

"Look at all these weirdos. My kind of people!" the symboite smiled to himself.

"Nice costume!"

"Hey! Awesome work!"

His smile grew wider, exposing his large teeth. Nobody seemed to be afraid or concerned, only giving him more compliments as they walked or danced past him.

"Greatest costume ever! Awesome work!" A guy in his twenties approached Venom with a camera.

The symboite crouched down and allowed the man, what looked like some kind of band uniform take selfies and group shots.

"Is that Japanese?"

"No, I made it myself-"

"Hello gorgues."

Looking down to his left, seeing a girl with a white full face mask. Big red lips forming into a smile, underneath a large crooked nose, detailed the mask. A hat of red feathers adorned their head.

Venom awkwardly smiled before speaking, "oh... no. Sorry not my type." As he quickly moved through the crowd. "I am out of the 'Eddie Closet!'."

After a few hours of dancing and mingling, Venom made his way towards the back of the club. Settling himself into a quiet booth, simply just watching everyone dance and move pass him. While glow-stick accessories covered his neck and wrists. The coloured strobe lights still hit the area, but the brightness wasn't so harsh. Instead the whole area of booths, and tables were showered with a gentle glow from the ceiling spotlights.

The symboite rubbed his temples and groaned a little, barely overcoming a headache.

"Hey girls, I'm gonna have a sit down. My feet are killing me."

"Really? But the night just started."

Venom looked up, seeing you and your friends standing at the end of his booth.

"Started? We've been here for hours. I doubt you'd call it 'started'."

A girl of blonde curly hair placed a hand upon your shoulder, smiling warmly. "Ignore Tammy. Go for it, Y/N. Would you like company?"

"No thanks, Jess. Just need a minute."

"Ok! Well we're gonna head to the dance floor!" Tammy yelled as she lead your friends. Jess sighed, "be safe. If you decide to go home early. Text me. I wanna know you're ok." You nodded. Seeming satisfied, Jess walked away. As you blindly took a seat at Venom's booth.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to assume-"

"It's alright" Venom assured, "I'm not waiting for anyone."

Making yourself comfortable in the seat across from him. Adjusting your costume, as you awkwardly smile at the symboite.

"So... how has your... night been?" His voice held an unsure tone, as Venom tried to break the ice.

"Pretty good, thank you." Your smile turned more warm, appreciating the attempt of a convocation. "As you saw, some friends and I decided to have a night out. But after dancing for a few hours, I'm feeling kinda tired."

"I understand. I'm slowly getting over this headache" Venom continued to rub his temples. But held out a free hand towards you, "forgive me. I haven't introduced myself. We- I am Venom."

Hesitating a little before you outstretched your hand. Yours barely fit in Venom's oversized digits, as his fingers carefully engulfed your whole hand, giving a tiny shake.

"I'm... Y/N, and Venom? Is that a stage name or something? Your costume is really outstanding by the way."

Your hand returned to your side, as did Venom's as he continued to speak. "Well... let's just say, it's a name I go by. And my costume? Oh! Yes! Thank you. I like yours as well."

You felt your cheeks redden slightly, as you played with the maid skirt. "Oh, it's just a cheap thing from the local costume store..."

The symboite smiled a toothy grin, a shiver ran down your spine. But out of fear? Or fascination? You honestly couldn't tell. Sensing your unease, Venom tried to relax his features in an attempt to expose less of his teeth.

"So uh... what made you come here tonight?" You asked in an attempt to keep the convocation going. Venom lounged back in the seat, taking up room as he rested his arm upon his lap. "I needed to... get away from my... room mate."

"Why?"

His milky white eyes gazed at you with curiosity. His hand slightly clutching onto his leg, as a strange and unfamiliar feeling curled within his chest.

"Why?... Well... We had an argument."

"About what? Must of been pretty bad for you to leave."

"It was nothing. Just an disagreement, which turned into an argument. Which resulted in me leaving. Thus here I am! With new people! Having the time of my life!.-"

"Venom... living with people can be hard sometimes. but you can't just leave whenever someone upsets you, or disagrees with you.-"

His attention snapped back at you,

"Eddie started it! He accused me of 'ruining' things, 'complaining' all the time! Even went as far as, claiming everything was better till I came along!"

His strong fist slammed on the table, the vibrations rippling through the wood. And into the fabric of the seating, "Little did he forget! It was I who made Eddie so great! Therefore he would continued to be useless without me!-"

"Did you?" Your calm and collected tone caught the symboite off guard. "Did you make everything worse?."

Venom's mouth opened but no sound followed. Just sat there in silence, as a frown formed across his face. Then after a hesitation, his expression relaxed, as he looked away in thought. The strange feeling within his chest begun to build.

What... is my heart doing? It's achy and strange. He thought.

A slight sigh left him, as Venom reflected upon his behaviour earlier.

"I... apologize. To you and Eddie... I was rude, on both accounts."

His eyes closed, while he went back to rubbing his temples.

"Eddie and I often do try to- what's the expression? See eye to eye?... Earlier today, I accidently interfered with his work. Well... more like got into a fight with someone at his work. But I apologized! I understand Eddie was angry, but he wouldn't let me explain! He just rambled on how I ruined things! And his life!-."

"Explain to me then."

Again your gentle tone stopped him mid-speech. Venom sensed your sympathy, and the feeling of someone being concerned for him... well, it felt good. Not that Eddie never showed such emotion towards him, but it was rare to feel it from another person. Even from those who knew about Venom and Eddie, the symboite always knew they sympathized with his host more.

"Explain to me."

Venom continued to stare into space, "I know Eddie, just as well as I know myself. We've... seen the best and worse of each other. We don't always agree with things, but we try..."

What is this feeling? Why am I... being emotional?

You reached out for Venom's relaxed fist, sensing that he was choosing his next words carefully.

"He was... interviewing a prisoner. Seeing if he could snap up any last words for himself, or for his victims. But instead..."

A low growl rumbled within his throat, as he gently gave your hand a little squeeze. "Instead the bustard said, how much of a 'cancer' Eddie is to people who's known and loved him."

His grip around your fingers curled tighter. "And not shutting up, about Eddie and his ex-fiancé! And speaking shit about Eddie's father not loving him just because his wife died!-"

"Ow Venom!-"

"Eddie's mother died giving birth to my friend! That pathetic scumbag of a human, had no right speaking in such filth! How dare he speak to Eddie, as if he murdered his mother!-"

"Venom!-" looking down at his hand strongly grasping at yours, Venom quickly pulled away, after seeing the watery tears within your eyes.

"I-I'm so sorry, Y/N! I didn't mean to! I-"

"You have quite the grip" You attempted to smile through the pain, as you opened and closed your hand for a quick minute. "I'm alright."

After a moment, you looked back up at Venom. Seeing the hurt behind his milky eyes.

"What that prisoner said was beyond awful. He had no right speaking about Eddie that way."

Venom relaxed once he was satisfied you wasn't scared, "indeed... that's exactly how I felt. And I got... into a fight with the scumbag."

"I suppose after that, Eddie was beyond annoyed."

"Either with me, or with the inmate. I honestly couldn't tell... By the time we got home. A disagreement erupted. Hurtful words were exchanged, and that just spun into a whole ass argument. And us fist fighting each other."

You reached out for his hand again, "sounds like you and Eddie need some time to cool off, and try talking to each other later.-"

"I suppose. But it's hard to decide where to go-"

"Why don't you stay at mine?"

Bewilderment just washed completely over the symbiote's face. You blushed a little more. "Well, just for tonight I mean..."

"B-But! But!-"

"Relax. Besides after tonight, you'll gain a new friend."

Your smile made Venom's heart flutter, as you slowly lead him out of the booth. He could only muster a mumbled, "ok." Before stumbling out of the club. Reaching the mouth of the ally, Venom placed his back against the wall and slid down.

"Venom?"

"I-I'm fine" he tried to assure you, through a weak smile. "I-I just need a minute."

Venom could feel the temporary host's body slowly start to reject him. Just like all the others he's been hoping to and from. Feeling your gentle touch upon the side of his face. Although he had to focus on each breath, he didn't want to take his sight off you.

"You're... so sweet."

"Take this costume off-."

"No!... No. I just need a minute. I'm just tired, that's all."

Thoughts begun to roll around in his head. Eddie always spoke of how the world was an 'unfair' and 'cruel' place. How if the world knew about Venom, it wouldn't end well. Yet here he was. Surrounded by people who treated him well and greeted with smiles, and you. You trying to nurse him back to health, as a concerned expression softened your face.

His heart fluttered again, as you fussed over him. All he wanted was one night of freedom. Where people didn't see him as a monster, a parasite. Just to try and fit into this world. And to end this amazing night with you.

All... I need is a new body. Just another one for a moment longer. He thought, but how? How can I go to another without freaking her out?.

"Is there anything I can do?"

His head perked up a little. Weakly smiling. "Yes... Yes there is one thing-"

"What?-"

"Can I have some water? I'm a bit thirsty."

"Of course! I'll be right back! Stay here!" you promised. Leaving a gentle kiss upon his cheek, before heading back into the club.

He waited till you were out of sight, before slouching against the wall even more. Placing a hand to his cheek where your cheery red lipstick marked with a kiss. Strange and unusual thoughts begun to swirl in Venom's head even more.

I want to know what she tastes like. How it feels to have her body close to mine.

It was always Eddie getting the women. And even when they were somewhat aware of Venom, their mood towards the purposed relationship quickly ended. Venom liked the idea of someone being attracted to him. Determined to not end his first night of freedom in this way, Venom looked around.

People pasted him, walking in and out of the club. Some simply just gave him a side glance and hurried away.

I just... need a new one. Only for a while longer, that's all. Just... a little longer-.

"Hey buddy, you ok?"

Rubbing his eyes a little, so he could refocus. Venom looked up slightly, seeing a guy tall and slim frame kneel towards him. The stranger smiled.

"Haha, had a little too much to drink, mate?"

"Haha, yeah... you could say that." Venom attempted to weakly smile.

"Can I give you a hand? I'm happy to help you get a taxi home, or wait till any friends of yours arrive."

"Thank you, but no need to trouble yourself. May I take your hand though?"

"Of course buddy. I'll help you up..."

Exiting from the club, in a little hurry, carrying a bottle of water with you. Making your way through the crowd that started to line up at the door. Approaching the spot where you left Venom, but only to find a guy leaning against the wall, vomiting his guts up. Mumbling in a confused daze.

"Venom?-"

"I'm here."

Emerging from a small corner on the other side of the ally, Venom's voice caught your attention as he slowly walked towards you. Raising an eyebrow, "you seem to be feeling better..."

The symbiote smiled as he held out a hand towards you, "yes. I apologize earlier. Something I eat didn't sit right."

You wasn't quite sure what to believe, looking over your shoulder to the guy behind you and back to Venom.

But... you were right here... You assured in thought.

Venom brushed a strain of hair out of your face, as he snapped you out of your thoughts. Gently taking the water from you and having a couple of sips from the bottle.

"Thank you, for helping me out"

"You're...welcome. I'm glad you're feeling better."

Venom nervously laughed a little. "Let's not allow this to ruin our night. I'll walk you home."

You returned his smile. "I'd like that."

[brainbuffering]

12 Days of Manga 2022

Day 8: Top 3 Seinen 

1) Hiraeth - The End of the Journey by Yuhki Kamatani from Kodansha (T: Leah Surgent L: Salud Campos Blasco E: Jesika Brooks)

[ID: English Volume 1 of Hiraeth - The End of The Journey by Yuhki Kamatani. A girl with short brown hair smiles brightly at the viewer. She has a flower crown of morning glories and wisteria (?) in her hair. The montage is also made up of japanese mountains, a 1930s Motorbike with a sidecar, a Shrine Gate, cranes and two other smaller figures: a man in black leather and sunglasses back to back with a person in long white godly robes and long white hair]

“After the death of her best friend, Mika is determined to follow her into the grave. But her suicide attempt introduces her to a world unlike any she's ever seen...full of gods and spirits and entities of which she could never have dreamed. But even with this world of wonder, can she find a way out of her sorrow?”

Yuhki Kamatani has got to be one of the most talented mangaka working in the industry. Their artwork is absolutley stunning, each panel a work of art in its own right, each line necessary to the telling of the story. I was waiting for Kodansha to release the series from Digital Jail before buying it, because I wanted to physically own it as a piece of arwork but alas... digital it remains.

But that does at least mean I can have pages and pages of screenshots saved to my tablet!

The series is a wonderful combination of dark, heartfelt, and hopeful. It’s a journey of three people facing the notion of mortality and what a death wish really is; from the perspective of a god who has accepted that their long time on earth is finally done and is happy for one final jaunt around Japan, an immortal who sees the curse of living forever as painful as the curse of inevitable death, and a suicidal teenager who longs to see her deceased friend once again.

I’m really eager to see how the series ends, and i’m rooting for Mika to finally choose life at the end of all this. It’s difficult as a teenager to be so suddenly faced with the concept of mortality, and seeing Mika tackle that from a suicidal perspective is incredibly moving. Seeing the philosophical elements laid out so beautifully and casually makes for a really fascinating read too, that makes you yourself think of how to aproach the notion of life and death.

Two volumes in, and Kamatani’s perspective is about as clear as you’d expect: Life is complicated, and death even more so. A long life is a good thing that should be saught after, but not at the cost of everything else in it. Kamatani looks at the importance of the connections we make with others, and how people cannot truly be gone as long as we remember them. Perhaps that’s a little cliche, but given how we’re still all in a stage of global grief in the middle of an ongoing pandemic, it’s an important thing to remember.

And as a final reminder, hey, Kodansha! If you ever want to release these books as physical editions I am more than willing to double dip for them!!!

2) Yakuza Fiance: Raise wa Tanin ga Ii by Asuka Konishi from SevenSeas  (T: M. Fulcrum A: Sopha Tyrant L: Arbash Mughal E: Abb Lehrke)

[ID: A Japanese high school girl with purple hair and red striking eyes looks over the shoulder of a boy hugging her. She is tugging his shirt down to reveal a large tiger back tattoo. There are red flowers (possibly camillas?) floating around them on a white background.]

“Too Much Love Will Kill You

Yoshino grew up the sheltered yakuza princess of the largest crime family in Osaka, the Somei. Due to her resting bitch face and dangerous family, no man has ever approached her. When her grandfather signs a truce with the Tokyo-based Miyama crime family, he offers her up as a truce bride to the Miyama leader's grandson! Kirishima Miyama is popular, charming, and seems totally normal. But behind his smile is a violent sadomasochist who thirsts for her dominance even more when she impresses him with her moxie! Even though she knows how bad yakuza can be, she's stunned by Miyama's viciousness. She can't turn him down with the East-West peace treaty on the line...so instead she steels herself to play ball!”                                    

Move out of the way Nisekoi, let’s see some yakuza teens in an aranged marriage get absolutely wrecked by the criminal underworld they grew up in!

High Schoolers they might be, but this is no sweetheart romance and I’m really digging it! The art work is really strong, especially the coloured inserts. It’s a very promising first volume and I definetly want to see what fucked up mess this all leads to! There’s far too much happy Yakuza romance going around, let’s see what happens if we actually explore the notion of organised crime. 

Now, how does that meme go? “He is definitely a red flag but red’s my favourite colour so what it do baby?” Kirishima’s is definetly not someone I would ever want to be in a relationship with, but boy howdy does he look good covered in someone else’s blood! And Yoshino looks even more beautiful when holding a knife to his throat and threatening to ruin his life if he steps out of line. There are a lot of unhealthy boxes being ticked by this series, so it’s definetly not one for those seeking out wholesome happiness. But not everything has to be “A Sign of Affection” you know!

I’m also facinated by the localisation choices being made in the official translation. Yoshino’s family speaks with an Osakan Dialect, which is usually translated into English media as a Southern American Dialect. However in Yakuza’s Fiance they have opted for a Northern British/Irish Dialect which feels quite refreshing! Why does english localisation always have to be so American? English Localisations are read all over the world, and whilst back in the 00s Australia and New Zealand would sometimes have seperate translations to North America (e.g. Fruits Baskets), that is no longer the case! At times the characterisation can feel a little disjointed with a lack of consitency between phrasing, and I wonder if this is the result of having a seperate translator and adaptor on the series?

If anybody happens to know if Fulcrum and/or Tyrant are on twitter please let me know, I would love to ask them my (polite and engaged) questions!

3) Delicious In Dungeon by Ryoko Kui from Yen Press (T: Taylor Engel L: Abigail Blackman)

[ID: English Cover for Delicious in Dungeon Vol 1. A human man in a full suit of metal armour holds a frying pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. Behind him, a dwarf with a big black beard, a halfling, and an elf in blue robes cook a giant mushroom on a spit roast. They are in a castle dungeon corridor, a red dragon looks in from the doorway behind them.]

“When young adventurer Laios and his company are attacked and soundly thrashed by a dragon deep in a dungeon, the party loses all its money and provisions...and a member! They're eager to go back and save her, but there is just one problem: If they set out with no food or coin to speak of, they're sure to starve on the way! But Laios comes up with a brilliant idea: ""Let's eat the monsters!"" Slimes, basilisks, and even dragons...none are safe from the appetites of these dungeon-crawling gourmands!”       

The most disapointing thing about this manga is that I cannot eat the food they prepare. Seriously, I know that the recipies for living armour are based upon regular crustacians, but that doesn’t mean they ARE crustacians! What does bug jewlery taste like? Does slime taste like bubblegum flavouring? Because it looks like it should...

As a DnD player, I really enjoyed all the references to role playing, especially the chapter with the mimics. Fucking mimics. I’m still angry about the door mimic my DM put me up against and I kept rolling like shit against.

Whilst the focus of the manga is obviously the humour, I’m really enjoying the developing relationships between the characters, and so far all the emotional beats have hit perfectly.

I’ve only read two volumes so far, and I’m not in any desperate rush to read the rest of th series, but I’m definetly going to be keeping my eye out for more in whatever inevitable coin boosts/sales happen so as they happen!

[abbatoirablaze]

Good Girl's Club, Father's Day

Word Count:  2.9k

Warnings:  MAJOR TW:  mention of a stillborn child/medical situations, angst, injury of a child, mentions of a gun, abuse, trauma

THIS DOES INCLUDE SPOILERS FOR EX WIVE'S CLUB! IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE MONTHS DOWN THE ROAD. WHEN I WROTE THIS, I THOUGHT I'D BE FURTHER INTO THE STORY, SO FAIR WARNING.

*I omitted Steve and Cami as well as Britt and Ari as they're getting their own chapters, because when I wrote this their sides made it pretty long.

“DADDY!  DADDY!”

“Shh,” Em cooed, her hand stroking along the jaw of her youngest and under his chin, “you have to be quiet Taylor.  We’re surprising daddy, remember?”

Sadie smiled at her mother as she held the other triplets, Sandy and Samantha’s hands, “this is going to be so awesome, mom!”

“We got the cake!” little Lee giggled, looking towards his older sister Emma who was holding it, “me and Emma!  We got it!  You guys got your stuff?”

“Nathaniel?  Ryder? Darren?” Em asked curiously, looking behind herself to the three remaining boys who were holding balloons and the party poppers.  They giggled mischievously, their grins growing as they stood at the ready. 

“Mrs. Bodecker, you’re early!” his assistant Nancy laughed, the older lady shaking her head at the Bodecker clan, “and the nanny?  She’s not with you today?”

“I gave her the day off,” Em smiled, “We wanted to surprise Lee…just the family.  You said he finished his last meeting early…is he free?”

“He did,” she smiled softly, “you’re sure picking a heck of a day to tell him the news!”

“Double digits, Nancy,” Em replied, the pride in her stomach growing as her free hand went to the non-existent baby bump, “we always wanted a big family!  And you know Lee…apparently not even a vasectomy can stop a Bodecker…”

“Add that baby in, and your brood is a baker’s dozen!”

“Nancy, what is all this commot-“

“SURPRISE!”

Lee nearly jumped out of his skin as his children chorused their surprise attack on him.

“HAPPY FARTHER’S DAY, DADDY!” Darren exclaimed, shooting his confetti party popper into the air.  Ryder and Nathanial let go of their balloons and reached into their pockets to grab their own, before blasting them off in every direction. 

Emma screamed, surprised when one hit her in the back.  The cake fell from her hands and plopped unceremoniously out of the pink bakery box and onto the floor. 

“EMMA NO!” Lee squealed as he dropped to his knees to start scooping the cake into the box.

“Surprise,” Em laughed, unable to be mad at her silly family and attempt to surprise her husband, “we uh-came by to surprise you on father’s day, sweetie…”

“DADDY!” Taylor exclaimed, reaching out to his father.  Lee smiled, his heart swelling at the well-meaning attempt from his family. 

“Is this all for me?”

“That’s not all, Mr. Mayor,” Em said sweetly.  She bit her lip and looked down to her stomach.  Her hands cradled the non-existent bump, “we-we’re pregnant again, Lee.”

“Oh sweetpea!” the older man cooed, his heart swelling even more, “wait…what about-“

“Guess you were right when you thought it didn’t take,” Em said bashfully, looking at her husband, “we’re gonna have another baby, Lee…”

“Wh-what is all this?”

Sam couldn’t help the smile that all but lit up his face.  Both his daughter and his girlfriend looked up from their spots in the kitchen.  Kaya’s eyes went wide, “NO DADDY!  GO BACK TO BED!”

“Kaya,” Nia playfully admonished as she wiped some of the flour from her daughter’s cheek, “don’t speak to your father like that!”

“But mommy, we’re not done with the food!”

“The food?” Sam asked playfully, coming into the kitchen.  He scooped his seven-year-old up and balanced her on his hip, “you guys making me breakfast for father’s day?”

“Cake actually,” Nia smiled, “your favorite too!”

“Cake for breakfast?  And from my two favorite girls?”

“We wanted to surprise you, daddy!”

“Well mission accomplished, little bird!”

Kaya smiled once more, her features reflecting that of her fathers.  She looked back to her mother, “mommy where’s daddy’s card?”

“On the counter, baby…”

“Daddy, me and mommy made you a card.”

“Oh, did you?”

“Mommy, get the card!”

“I’m getting it,” Nia laughed, reaching over for the card.  Sam smiled as she passed it to him, giving him a simple kiss on the corner of his mouth, “happy Father’s Day, daddy!”

“Don’t go starting up with that language, now,” Sam teased as he took the card.  She shot him a wink and he playfully smacked her ass, “go ahead, keep teasing me…I’ll show you exactly what daddy can do.”

“Ohhh mommmyyyyy,” Kaya cooed, “daddy’s gonna spank you if you’re bad…you better be good.”

“Don’t you worry, baby bird,” Sam chuckled as he ruffled his daughter’s hair, “mommy will get her spanking at the end of the day, after you go to bed.”

Nia’s eyes went wide, “Sam!”

“Ohhhh, mommy, you’re in trouble!” Kaya giggled.

“Alright, all we have to do is make sure it’s gone by the time mommy gets home, right bud?”

The six-year-old carbon copy of himself with his own namesake smiled at him, “mommy’s gonna kick your butt, daddy.”

Jake frowned at his son, “you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“No way you’re roping Jake in,” Evie said with a smirk as she looked at her adopted father.  She held out a popsicle and looked to her youngest sibling, “come on Jake…Tyler’s getting your xbox set up for you…we’ll let you play with us while dad gets his butt kicked by mom.”

Jake turned to his seven-year-old, “Layla…you won’t rat daddy out or leave him, will you?”

“You’re silly daddy…”

Jake pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and wiped some of the suds from her cheek.  His heart warmed at his carbon copy version of his wife, “my sweet girl….”  

She grabbed his hand and gave him a bright smile, “You’re on your own though…sissy and bubba are right.  Momma is gonna whoop you…”

Before he could so much as argue Jacob and Layla ran after Evie, heading upstairs to the game room to play Xbox.  Jake bit his lip and looked at the dishwasher that had overflowed onto the kitchen floor. 

“Let’s just call someone…”

“I’m not spending our hard-earned money on some issue with the dishwasher,” Jake all but scoffed as he rushed his wife, “Maddie, we’ve got four kids…all of them could learn a thing or two from washing dishes in the sink for a day or two while I figure it out.”

“Awww, baby,” she laughed sweetly.  Her hands cradled his face as she pressed a firm, but loving kiss to his lips, “it’s so sweet that you think you can fix the dishwasher…you may be some government tech wizard, but you know nothing about fixing home appliances.”

“What are you talking about?” Jake scoffed, “I can fix anything, even a dishwasher.”

“Baby, you’re so cute when you think you can be a handy man…”

“You know what happens when you turn into a little brat, Maddie…I have no problem bending you over this counter!” Jake teased. 

“You’re cute,” she giggled, her hand reaching out to stroke her husband’s cheek.  She leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “but call someone…you can’t fix the dishwasher.”  

She took a step back and Jake’s brow furrowed, “wh-what do you mean, cute?  I’m in the military.  I’m part of an elite force of men!  I hack entire governments.  What makes you think I can’t fix a dishwasher?”

“Baby, I’ve met you,” Maddie chuckled, “I love you so much, but you are hopeless when it comes to fixing things around the house.  We both know it!”

“Name one instance.”

“The vents that go to Tyler’s room,” she smirked, referring to how the vent’s system had closed and Jake couldn’t get the little handle to open back up again, “or how about last week when there was a leak in the pool’s filtration system.”

Jake frowned, “those don’t count, Maddie…”

“Don’t they?”

“I’m off tomorrow…I’ll show you just how easy it is to fix that stupid thing.  And then you’ll eat your words.  Hell, I’ll even fix the vents and the pool…just to prove it to you how much of a handy man I am…then…when you see what a great job I’ve done, I’ll rechristen every one of those spots with you and I won’t stop until you’re screaming that I’m right.”

“I’ll tell you what, big guy…you make me eat my words, and tomorrow I’ll do that…and I’ll even give you an extra special Father’s Day treat and do that thing you like,” she teased, leaning in to brush her nose against his.  Jake felt his chest tighten as her lips grazed his, his mind going to the roleplaying scenario that he’d made her reenact all too many times, “I’ve still got that slutty slave Leia costume…”

“Deal!”

“Jensen, do you have any idea what time zone I’m in right now?”

“Clay…it’s an emergency…” Jake said quickly into the phone, “I need an expert.”

“Jesus…what’s going on kid?”

“I need someone who can fix a dishwasher before my wife comes home!” he said quickly, “I jus-hello?  Clay?  Clay?”

“What, did he hang up on you?”

“Yeah, he did,” Jake muttered as he pulled up a browser and searched for someone to fix the dishwasher as fast as possible, “he’s inconsiderate as hell. I jus-“

“Jake…he’s on his honeymoon…we literally were just at the reception a few days ago!”

“Yeah I-“ But Jake stopped talking when he realized that he was conversing with his wife.  He swallowed nervously as he looked at her, “He-hey baby…you’re home sooner than I thought…”

“Funny how that works,” she smirked, stepping into the kitchen, “looks like you didn’t fix the dishwasher…”

“Baby I can explain…”

“Explain it later,” she offered, dropping the shopping bags onto the table, “the kids are in the game room which means we’ll have at least twenty minutes to ourselves…”

“But I-“

“Are you going to argue, Mr. Jensen?” she teased as she looked over her shoulder, “or are you going to take me in our marital bed while I wear that costume?  Because as your dirty little Leia, you can use me however you want…”

“I-I still-you’ll still do it?” Jake asked, his breath catching in his throat.

“Let’s see if you can use the force and make me cum, young padawan!”

“HE’S COMING!”

“Mrs. Barnes, you need to-“

“DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, CHO!” Mel all but screamed as she felt the pressure in her stomach, “YOU’VE NEVER BIRTHED SUPER SOLDIER CHILDREN.  YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LI-AAAAAAA!”

“Breathe baby!” Bucky reminded his significant other as he rushed to her side, “remember the class.  Bre-“

“I HATE YOU!” she screamed through the contraction, “YOU DID THIS TO ME!  DAMN IT JAMES!  I HAAAAAAAAAA-“

“You’re doing so good!” Bucky tried.  He went to wipe the sweat from her brow, but she pushed him away.

“Don’t touch me!” she wailed, breaking into a sobbing fit, “I’m as big as an orca whale and I’m gross and sweaty!  You did this to me!  You put another one in me!

“You’re so beautiful, doll!” Bucky tried again, reaching for Mel one more time, “you’re so beautiful, and amazing, Melissa.  You’re such an amazing woman and mother!  Y-you can do this, baby.  I promise…just like all the other times!  You got this!”   

This time she didn’t fight him, instead, pulling him as close as she could, given the barrier of the hospital bed between them, “I can’t do this, James.  I can’t do this again!  What if he’s like Timothy…”

“He won’t be,” Bucky sighed, upset over the mention of the last child that she’d birthed a few years ago, which had been stillborn, “Monte is strong…he’ll be perfectly fine, I promise!  Every appointment was good…it-he’s not like Timothy, baby.  I promise!”

“I’m so afraid, Jamie!”

“It’ll be okay…right Doctor Cho?”

“The baby’s heart rate is speeding up!” She said calmly, “Bucky…I need you to let go of Melissa.”

Melissa shot up in her spot, her eyes wildly going to the man she loved, “something’s wrong?  Jamie, something can’t be wrong with him.  Mont-“

“We’ll be fine,” Bucky said quickly, barely believing the words he was saying.  His hands reached out to her stomach, and he felt the wild thrumming beneath his fingertips.  He tried to fight the tears that were riding up on his anxiety, “he-he’ll be fine.  You’ll be fine.  We-“

“Bucky, we need to take her in for emergency surgery!  This is progressing, but not in the way that we’d planned for!  You need to let your wife go, Sergeant Barnes!” Doctor Cho said quickly. 

He nodded, unable to find the words while a lump formed in his throat.

“Buck…” Bucky looked up from his spot in the chair.  His leg bounced wildly as he tried to fight the worry that lay in the pit of his stomach.  Steve frowned at his best friend, “Cami has the kids at her place…we-we got them settled in but-I told her that I would come check on y-“

Steve didn’t get to finish his thoughts.  Bucky had rushed up to him and wrapped him in a hug, while he began to sob against his best friend.  His anger towards him faded and he clung to the one man who’d been there for him through it all.

“What if he doesn’t make it, Steve?” Bucky asked brokenly, “wh-what if he doesn’t make it like the last one?  I know that we pretended Joey was ours…an-and that was wrong, but Cami said-oh god…I can’t lose another one, Steve…hi-his name is Montgomery…we named him after Monte…”

“Buck…”

“I can’t lose another child, Steve…”

“You won’t, Buck…”

“I can’t lose Monte…”

“You won’t, Buck…”

“Come on…what do you guys look so sad about?  We’re having a good day, right?  We got up early.  I’m making us breakfast.  We’ll spend the whole day with each other.  It’ll be a great father’s day!”

Ashley looked up from her pancakes, before her eyes snapped back down.  Michael’s jaw tensed as he glared at his father.

“Come on guys, cheer up.  We-“

“We want mom.”

Andy took a heavy breath and he released a sigh, staring back at his son, “we’ve talked about this, bud…”

“Where is she?” his son asked, “y-you kicked her out…threw away all her stuff and then-“

“Michael, please…”

“We should be able to know where mom is,” he argued, “mom is-“

“STOP!”

The loud clattering of the pan being knocked from the stove to the floor was enough to make Ashley jump out of her seat.  In her panic, she knocked her plate and glass of juice to the floor.  The glass shattered around her and she bolted towards her bedroom.

“DAMN IT!” Andy cursed, “are you happy with that?  You know that mentioning your mother upsets your sister and yet you go ahead and-“

“SHE’S MAD AT YOU FOR KICKING MOM OUT!” Michael argued, eyes tearing up as he faced off with his father, “YOU WON’T EVEN TELL US WHY YOU MADE MOM LEAVE.  SHE-“

“SHE’S A NO GOOD WHORE IS WHAT SHE IS!” Andy screamed at his eleven-year old, “you want to know what she did, fine!  YOUR MOTHER IS FUCKING OTHER MEN!  SHE’S RUNNING AROUND, KEEPING HER LEGS OPEN FOR ANY MAN WHO WANTS TO SLIP BETWEEN THEM!”

“M-mom wouldn’t do that…”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “what makes you so sure, huh?”

“Mom’s not like Laurie…”

“Shut your mouth, Michael…”

“Dad, even Jacob-“

“Don’t you dare talk about your brother!”

“Why?” Michael asked, “because he’s like grandpa?  Because he-“

But the eleven-year old went tumbling to the ground.  Andy had rushed up to him, trampling through the broken glass, and slapped him hard enough to send him spinning to the linoleum floor.  But not before hearing a sickening crack. 

Jacob wailed in pain as he held his abdomen. 

On his way down he’d hit the table and hard. 

Off in the distance, he could hear sirens. 

His eyes went wide as he realized what he did, “Michael…Micha-“

“Get away from him!” the six year old screamed.  Andy looked up to the entryway where his daughter had stood. 

“Ash-Ashley…”Andy said nervously as he looked at his daughter who had his loaded handgun in her hands, “h-how did you get into daddy’s gun safe baby?  Wh-why do you have that?”

“I called the police daddy…” Ashley said tearfully as she kept aiming at her father.  Michael crawled away from his father and towards his sister.  Andy went to take a step, and she pulled the trigger.  The corner of the table blew away with the bullet and Andy jumped, having nearly been hit.

“Baby put the gun down…”

“No daddy!” Ashley said quickly, “we want mommy…”

The sirens got closer.  Andy felt bile rising in the back of his throat as he noticed the police cars parking in front of the house.  A loud banging came from the front door.

“THIS IS THE POLICE!  MR. BARBER OPEN THE DOOR!”

“HELP!” Michael wailed from his spot at his sister’s side, “MY DAD’S BEEN BEATING US SINCE HE KICKED OUR MOM OUT!  MY SISTER HAS HIM CORNERED IN THE KITCHEN WITH THE GUN!”

He coughed, some blood coming up as the police kicked in the door, “POLICE!  PUT THE GUN DOWN AND HANDS IN THE AIR!”

Ashley dropped the gun, running to the police officers.  Andy stood stock-still as they came into the home, one of them rushing to check on his son, while the other shuffled Ashley behind him and kept his gun trained on him.  Andy eyed the gun, but held his hands up in the air, “I didn’t do anything!”

“He-he’s lying,” Michael coughed, lifting his shirt.  Andy grimaced when he saw the bruises on his son’s stomach, “h-he’s been hitting us for months since he made our mom leave…he-he hasn’t let us see her, and he made a judge pull custody from her.  Please…help us!”

[darthhope999]

OC Whump day ten!

We’ve reached double digits! Enjoy one of the longest stories I have written thus far!

If you are confused about why wolves go to school… let’s just say I made an AU (Or adopted one).

This is very loosely based off of an activity we did in school where we had to spin in circles and preform a dance in science. No one got sick, but I saw opportunity to finally write for a prompt I had had no inspiration for.

Ao3 Link:

“Clover! Let’s go!” Dawn’s voice drifted through the small house.

“Coming mom!” Clover shouted, dashing down the stairs.

“Where were you?” Dawn demanded.

“I was talking to Ghost, mom,” Clover said.

“You are going to be late. You don’t want to know what I’ll do to you if you’re late,” Dawn warned her daughter.

“Okay, mom,” Clover whined, “But where’s Ivy?”

“Ivy has to train, she’s skipping,” Dawn said shortly, “Now, go! Or I won’t be held responsible for my actions.

“Okay, look at me, I’m going,” Clover called as she darted out the door.

The air outside was humid and stuffy. Dawn had told the pups that it was hot for this time of year, April.

The other pups had complained, but Clover loved it. She had always loved being able to swim in the cool rivers with her friends. Being able to run and romp until her pelt dripped with sweat and being able to sleep under the stars instead of in her den.

The air that might have seemed suffocating to any other wolf, seemed oddly comforting to her.

“Can’t breathe,” Magma’s joking voice came from beside her.

Clover grinned, “No joking, I thought you were serious,” She said.

“Uh-huh, well, I appreciate your attempts to save me.

Rune ran up to the two, Nero jogging alongside her, sweat glistening on their white pelt.

“It is freaking hot out here,” Magma complained as his friends ran up.

“Oh, calm down, at least you didn’t have to train for two hours before coming here,” Nero reprimanded.

“It’s still hot!” Magma protested.

“Dude, you’re literally made of lava,” Nero replied.

“Did you guys get the homework for social studies done?” Rune asked suddenly, looking nervous.

Clover turned to look at her in surprise, “You didn’t?”

“Seiko had me studying herbs, I didn’t have time,” She said, looking very worried.

“Nope,” Magma stated, “Mrs. Barlow won’t be shocked, I haven’t completed a single homework assignment since the beginning of the year.”

Rune looked at him in shock, “The whole year!” She practically screamed.

“Yeah, calm down screaming harpy. I don’t care how many wars England got into five hundred years ago.” Magma said sarcastically, “It’s the only class I have an F in, so just cool it.”

“Magma, last I checked you had an F in science,” Nero put in.

“No, test grades don’t count,” Magma replied.

“Can someone help me?” Rune begged.

Clover smiled mischievously, “You want to copy someone?” She asked, grinning.

Rune sighed, “No,” She said, hanging her head.

“You care way too much about grades,” Magma said, “You’re gonna be a medic in Arcticlan, you don’t need a degree for that. In fact you could drop out right now and be fine.”

“Also, on a more serious note, you have A+’s in every class. One missing homework assignment won’t change anything,” Nero cut in before Magma could say anything else.

“Plus, You can explain to Mrs. Barlow that you didn’t have enough time and I’m sure she’ll give you extra,” Clover said gently, she knew that Rune prided herself on how well she did in her human studies. Rune was very easily convinced that her work was meaningless, and Clover didn’t want one missing assignment to do that to her again.

“Yeah, you’ve been a good student since day one,” Nero said, catching on.

“I don’t think she will, she’s mean,” Magam added thoughtlessly.

“Oh! Look, flowers!” Clover cried, nodding to a newly grown flower field.

“We should play in them after school,” Magam said excitedly, both him and Clover immediately distracted from Rune.

“Yeah!” Cover shouted, hopping up and down in excitement.

“Guys! We’re going to be late!” Nero shouted to get their friend’s attention.

“Shoot!” Magma shouted, “If I’m late again, Wyvern’s gonna kill me!”

The four friends took off running, humid air dragging at their pelts and stuffing up their lungs.

Luckily, they managed to reach the school before the bell rang and darted in the door, scrambling to get to social studies before the teacher locked them out.

“We’re here! We aren't late,” Magam said breathlessly as the wolves ran into the classroom.

“Actually, you’re one minute late. But I’ll let it slide,” Mrs. Barlow snapped, “Turn your homework in and sit down.”

“I didn’t do it,” Magma said simply before walking to the back of the room to take a seat, prompting a sigh from the teacher.

Nero and Clover walked over to the bin, dropping their worksheets into the turn-in pile. “Think you did well?” Clover muttered to Nero as they took their seats.

“Sure, you?”

“I just guessed,” Clover replied.

Nero rolled their eyes, “Seriously?”

“What? It was completion,” Clover whispered

“Rune? Is there a problem?” Barlow demanded, glaring at Rune.

She swallowed, “N-no ma'am, I, uh, I didn’t have time to do it last night. Do you think I could finish it tonight instead?” Rune asked fearfully.

“Absolutely not,” Barlow snapped, “Take a seat, dog.”

Rune nodded and hurriedly walked to the back of the room, head lowered and eyes watering.

“Rude,” Magma growled.

“Today we are learning about-” Clover zoned out almost immediately, her teacher's droning voice acting as background noise as she started imagining rolling around in flower fields with her friends.

. . .

Clover, unlike most of the other pups, actually enjoyed school. She disliked having to sit still and listen for fifty minutes uninterrupted every class. But she loved how much time she got to socialize and learn about important events that she would not have gotten the chance to in the clans.

The day was going smoothly, as it always did, with her talking to everyone she could and zoning out to her teacher’s droning. Everything going was great, until, suddenly, it wasn’t.

She had just finished her lunch period, the wolves had grown accustomed to eating human foods, and the weather had been nice enough that the teachers let the students outside for recess. Clover had played happily with Aspen and Aqua until they were called in.

Now, however, the food she had eaten just ten minutes ago seeed to weigh heavily on her stomach.

The stench of sweaty, human child did nothing to ease her discomfort.

By the time she reached science her stomach was starting to hurt. She brushed it off, not like she could do anything about it. And it wasn’t that bad anyway

“Okay, class!” The science teacher, Mrs. Noel, called as everyone started taking their seats. “We’re doing a dance today!”

Clover was starting to think she should ask to go to the nurse, or the bathroom at the very least.

“Everyone listen-” Clover tuned the teacher out even quicker this time, mind focusing on the cramping pain that was starting to come over her twisting stomach.

The class watched as Mrs. Noel demonstrated how to do the Earth, Moon, and Sun dance. With the moon revolving around the earth, which rotated in circles around the sun while also revolving.

Clover felt sick just watching it.

“Who wants to try it?” Noel called out, grinning.

Out of all of the students raising hands, she picked Clover, the only one not begging to be chosen. Two other students, John and Mary, joined her in the middle of the classroom.

“Mary, you're the sun, John, you’re the moon, And Clover you’re the earth,” Noel said, “Okay, go!”

The students scrambled to get into position as the teacher suddenly shouted for them to start dancing.

Mary ran to the middle, and John to the outside, waiting for Clover to start her ‘orbit’.

Clover swallowed thickly, her stomach was starting to hurt even more, causing a queasy feeling to rise up her throat. But she didn’t want to let her group down. So, gulping as the queasy feeling started to intensify, she started to spin in fast, tight circles.

John began to revolve around her as if he were the moon, Mary started to wave her arms as if she were the sun blasting out gamma rays. Clover’s stomach seemed to decide that it too wanted to play a game.

The game was called; how long do you think you can keep me from forcing your lunch up your throat?

Clover was losing. Terribly.

“Yeah! Clover, spin faster!” Noel shouted.

The pup forced herself to move her legs quicker, spinning at an even faster speed. The entire room was a blur of humans and tables, and her stomach couldn’t take it any more.

She froze, time seemed to stop for a split second, then a jet of hot liquid shot up her throat and she hunched over, spilling her stomach to the floor of the classroom.

Cramps gripped her intestines, and a heaving gag shook her body, the only warning before yet another stream of vomit spewed from her mouth. Her stomach heaved, emptying itself of whatever had irritated it.

Around her, laughter exploded from the students. Panting, she raised her head, gut still cramping and burning from the exertion of expelling its contents.

The teacher sighed, looking angry, “Clover, go sit down. John, Mary, come with me, we need to get something to clean this, and you need to change.

With that Noel left the room, leaving Clover to stagger back to her seat. Stomach churning and cramping with every movement.

Laughter rang in her ears, embarrassment making her nausea even worse. “I’m sorry,” She whimpered softly, gulping as her abdominal muscles clenched, sending a cramping pain coursing through her intestines.

. . .

When the teacher came back she barely even acknowledged Clover besides telling her that she was to stay the rest of the day.

Clover’s stomach was churning, every so often it would lurch, sending more of its contents ruching up her throat. But she swallowed it down, feeling it settle painfully on her stomach, causing more cramps to cut through her insides.

She couldn’t pay attention even if she tried. Noel was teaching them something about the difference between revolve and rotate, saying it was important, but all Clover could think about was not puking again.

Finally, after thirty agonizing minutes, the class was over. Clover rushed to the restroom, reaching the stall just as another wave of vomit exploded out of her throat. A wet splattering noise filled the bathroom as she retched into the toilet. Stomach heaving and body shaking.

A cry was torn from her mouth as another wave of nausea rolled over her. She didn’t vomit again, she had to get to her next class.

“Just a few more hours,” She whimpered to herself. But anxiety started to blend with the nausea, making her stomach churn faster and her head spin.

“You can do it, you’ve hunted for longer,” She tried to calm herself as another cramp twisted her intestines.

Swallowing, Clover made her way slowly out of the stall, she was sure she was shaking and knew her pelt glistened with sweat. But all she cared about was making it through the day without spewing her stomach out all over another student.

Or doing it in front of another student, the laughter still rang in her ears.

Unfortunately for her, her next class was gym.

. . .

From the moment she got to the gymnasium she knew it would not go well. It was Wednesday and the teacher was having them run laps and lift weights. Clover, as a dog, couldn’t actually lift weights. So, the gym teacher forced her, and the other wolves in the class, to run extra laps.

Her stomach did not agree with this lesson plan.

But she started to run them anyway.

“Does she seem quiet to you?” Rune asked, running to keep up with Nero, who was barely jogging.

“What do you mean?” The wolf asked, not even breathing hard. The wolves, it seemed, were in much better shape than the humans were. And Nero, as a fighter, was in much better shape than Rune was as a medic.

“I mean,” Rune panted, “I asked her a question and she shrugged me off. Tell me, does that sound like Clover?”

“No, Clover would normally give you way too long of an answer and get distracted talking about fifteen other things,” Nero responded, frowning.

“Think she’s okay?” Rune asked in concern.

“Guys!” Magma sped over to them, the wolf had been running the track so fast he was practically a blur and had passed Nero and Rune nearing three times now.

“What’s up, Sonic?” Nero asked, still jogging, forcing Rune to speed up slightly to stay level with the other two.

“I heard two students in Clover’s science class saying someone puked all over the floor during a dance thing. Said it was hilarious, they couldn’t stop laughing,” Magma was grinning.

“Yes, this is the perfect time to gossip. In gym class with the strictest teacher in the known universe watching us like a hawk,” Rune panted.

“Are you panting?” Magma demanded.

“Shut up! You and Nero train like this every day, I sort herbs!” Rune cried.

“Yeah, sure,” Magma said, rolling his eyes.

“Look,” Nero had stopped running, nodding in the direction of the restroom doors.

Clover had suddenly dashed across the gym floor and into the bathroom, the door swung open after her.

Rune frowned, “That’s not good,” She observed.

“I think I know who puked in science,” Nero put in.

“Uh oh, bogey, six o’clock,” Magma said, watching the gym teacher start to walk over to them.

“That’s not six o’clock,” Rune whispered, for some reason, all of them had started to whisper.

“Shut up and run,” Magma whispered back.

. . .

Clover dashed into the restroom, once more, barely making it to the stall before her stomach heaved and emptied its contents into the bowl. Cramps ripped through her gut, and she groaned, retching and spewing bile and acid from the depths of her stomach.

Tears clouded into her eyes, her intestines were twisting themselves into agonizing knots, pushing more and more half digested food up her throat.

A wet gurgle rumbled from her frothing stomach and, despite her desperate efforts to keep it down, the food was ejected from her mouth. A sickly burp turned into a retching gag, followed by yet another stream of vomit splashing into the toilet.

Now Clover’s stomach felt like a washing machine, dizziness filled her head, upsetting her stomach farther. She felt as if liquid were sloshing around painfully in her gut, churning and bubbling as if it were in a cement mixer.

She hung her head over the toilet bowl again, heaving as her stomach launched more of the stuff up her throat.

Her legs gave way. Clover fell, trembling, onto the cold, tiled floor. She curled into a ball, pressing her legs to her heaving, cramping stomach.

“Clover?” Rune’s voice carried to her ears.

Rune winced as she heard a sickly gurgle coming from one of the stalls, followed by a pained groan.

She ran up to one of them, ducked under the door, and saw Clover, curled on the ground, shaking with tears in her eyes. Her paws were pressing desperately against her stomach. Which seemed to be leaping up and down as if spasms were rippling through it.

As Rune watched, her friend lurched, letting out an agonized whimper, and horrible retches wracked her body.

“Clover!” Rune ran up to her, catching a whiff of a terrible acidic smell. She saw vomit and chunks of food that had splashed up over the side of the toilet bowl.

Clover groaned and another horrible, sickly, gurgling noise bubbled from her rebelling stomach. The you pup retched again, paws pressing into her spasming gut in a desperate attempt to ease the cramping pain that ripped through her.

Rune didn’t know what to do. Why hadn’t she gone home? Had she not realized it was this bad? Clover was not very stubborn, she would have begged Dawn to let her stay home. Rightfully too. So why was she still here?

“Rune, help me, please,” The whimper was much weaker than Rune ever thought she’d hear from the energetic apprentice.

“Okay, just, stay calm. I-I’ll get help, just hold on,” Rune turned and ran out of the stall, rushing out of the restroom and into the gym where kids were still lifting weights and running laps.

“You and your friend deciding to spend class time messing around in the restrooms, huh?” A demanding voice said from behind Rune. The gym teacher, none of their wolves had bothered with his name, was holding a weighted medicine ball and looking infuriated. If they were in a comic, steam would be streaming from his nose.

Luckily, Nero and Magma had rushed over to back their friend up.

“Hey, dude, put the weapon down,” Magma said, walking up to Rune, Nero following.

“Is Clover alright?” Nero asked immediately, they were worried.

Rune glanced at the teacher, “No, ella estaba ahí vomitando,” Rune said in a rough translation.

The wolves were required to learn Spanish, the original language of the clans, in case they needed to use code. Rune hadn't exactly gotten around to it but she knew Nero had.

The apprentice looked alarmed, “¿En serio?”

“Uh, hello guys, translation?” Magma asked.

Suddenly the bell rang, the sound echoing in the curved ceiling. Rune flinched and twenty children ran to get their bags and rush off to their respective classes.

“You're lucky,” The teacher growled, “Get out.” He didn’t even stay to make sure they left.

Which of course, they didn’t.

“Clover?” The three friends rushed into the restroom, Rune forced the stall open again to reveal Clover. The poor pup had hauled herself to her feet and was retching with her head hanging over the toilet.

Nero ran up to her, pressing their pelt against her feverish one in an effort to give her comfort as she heaved one last time. Chunks of food spewed out of her mouth in a stream of brownish-green vomit.

“It’s alright. Get it out, you’ll feel better,” Nero calmed, the apprentice seemed unfazed.

Rune however felt like being sick just watching Clover, she looked away. She was not puking today, not with Clover like this, Nero and Magma didn’t need to take care of another ill friend.

Clover’s stomach emitted another wet gurgle, forcing a stream of bile up her throat. She reached again, this time nothing came out and she was finally able to catch her breath.

The pup staggered away from the bowl and collapsed to the ground, paws curling over her painful stomach again. “Hey guys,” She choked out, eyes watering.

“Shh, be quiet,” Nero said.

Clover swallowed. A sickly burp erupted from her mouth followed by a gagging sound, but she didn’t start to retch again.

“What time is it?” Clover whimpered.

“End of gym,” Magma said, “Why didn’t you go home after science?”

“They wouldn’t let me,” Clover gulped.

“Seriously?” Magma snarled, “You got sick in the middle of the classroom and the teacher wouldn’t even let you go home?”

“Magma clam down,” Rune begged, she felt her stomach start to twist at the sight of Clover lying on the ground, whimpering as her stomach sent stabs of cramping pain through her insides.

“We have to get to class,” She whimpered, groaning as another spasm clenched her gut.

As much as Nero hated it, thinking about Clover being forced to suffer through two more hours of school in her state, they knew there was no way the teacher would let her go home.

“Okay, is anyone from the clans in your next class?” They asked, hoping to the spirits there was.

Clover swallowed, nodding, “Winter and Firefur,” She gagged.

“Get their help,” Nero said, it was all they could think of to help the ailing pup.

. . .

Clover wanted to talk to Firefur but it was slow going getting to her class and she was late. The math teacher, Mrs. Katz, told her to sit down the moment she got to class.

So, she was forced to take a seat, squirming and clamping her mouth shut as her stomach cramped and sent a wave of nausea over her body.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, you will be getting ito groups of three to solve these math equations. The first group to solve them gets candy,” Mrs. Katz hauled a candy bucket to the tabletop.

The students started to buzz, moving excitedly around the classroom, getting into groups and starting to talk about things that had nothing to do with math.

The sound did not help Clover’s churning stomach.

“Hey, Clover!” Firefur’s voice washed over her, she gulped.

“Hey,” Winter noticed that Clover did not look well. Frowning, she asked, “What’s the matter?” Her voice was much calmer than Firefur’s and Clover felt tears coming to her eyes as the adrenaline from puking wore off.

She swallowed again, willing her body not to vomit, and began to explain the events that had transpired.

. . .

By the time she was done, she had been explaining for ten minutes, having to take constant breaks as her stomach heaved or cramped.

Exhaling shakily, Clover looked pleadingly at Winter, tears starting to fall from her eyes. She was starting to realize what had happened and what she was going to be forced to do.

“Oh, spirits,” Winter said, shocked.

Firefur moved over to her and started to lick between her ears, a calming method used on younger pups, but he didn’t know what else to do as he saw that she was starting to freak out.

Clover’s stomach let out a quiet, sickly grumble, she groaned, hunching over. Tears started to fall faster from her eyes, her breath hitching in her throat as she felt her intestines start to force whatever it could find out of her stomach.

Firefur had gone from ready to joke to trying his hardest to console the terrified apprentice in less than a second.

“I’m going to talk to the teacher,” Winter said gently, “I’ll explain what’s happening to her, and even if she won’t let you go home she’ll likely allow you to go to the restroom. Teachers don’t like their classes interrupted.”

Firefur nodded, “Ask if I can go with her,” He said, feeling Clover flinch beside him.

Winter nodded and quickly went to the Mrs. Katz’s desk.

Clover’s stomach started to gurgle again, she felt a sickly burp start to rise in her chest, but she didn’t dare open her mouth, if she did that she was certain her stomach would force the rising bile out.

Firefur was close enough that he could feel the young pup’s stomach cramp and spasm as it tried to force her to let out its contents. He could hear every subtle whimper escaping her throat, every wet, painful gargle her sloshing stomach produced.

“Firefur,” Her voice was barely a whisper, breath catching in her throat, “I’m gonna be sick again,” She choked out, stomach emitting yet another bubbling growl. Some students looked over at them, glancing at each other. The students that had been in Clover’s science class started to chuckle.

Firefur was normally a calm wolf, but he had never wanted to kill a human more in his entire life. However, Clover’s labored breathing as she struggled to keep the nausea from exploding into another vomiting fit kept him grounded.

The pup’s small body shook with subdued dry heaves. Firefur leaned closer to her, covering her head with his.

Winter walked quickly over to them, “She says you can go,” She said quietly, grimacing in sympathy as she heard Clover’s stomach let out another wet gurgle.

Clover wanted to cry, her gut was sending excruciating cramps through her stomach, and it was heaving and lurching, trying to force Clover to open her mouth and let out the stream of vomit that had started to build up in her throat.

As she darted out of the classroom, Firefur following her, her stomach started to get louder, threatening to explode.

She ran to the nearest restroom, but she didn’t make it. Vomit exploded out of her throat halfway down the hallway, her stomach heaved and her whole body shook as she was forced to hurl her insides out again.

Firefur ran to her side, pressing his pelt against her’s, just as Nero had. Clover’s gut jerked and sent bile and acid rocketing out of her throat, burning her stomach. Her abdomen gurgled and frothed, muscles spasming and sending more cramps to wrack her exhausted body

Firefur rubbed the side of his face on her back, trying to help settle her stomach. It helped slightly. Clover felt her gut start to calm enough that it allowed her to stop retching for long enough to catch her breath.

“It hurts,” She cried out, melting into Firefur’s comforting presence.

“I know, shhh,” The older apprentice tried to comfort her, but he truly had no idea what to do.

It seemed he did the right thing, however, he could feel Clover’s stomach start to calm. It no longer emitted the horrible gurgling sounds and he felt it stop spasming.

Firefur himself felt like being sick after seeing Clover empty her stomach all over the ground, but he swallowed it back, continuing to rub Clover’s back.

“Think you’re alright to go back?” Firefur asked, he knew the answer should be no, but they had no choice.

Clover inhaled sharply, “I-I made a mess,” She muttered.

“It’s alright,” Firefur said, feeling anger rush through his veins, “It’s their fault.”

Clover gulped, “Yeah,” She whimpered.

. . .

The rest of the day was a haze, her stomach seemed to have tired itself out. Every movement was agonizing, her sore stomach ready to explode at the slightest provocation. But she didn’t let it, instead she struggled through the rest of math class and forced herself to survive ELA.

The moment they were dismissed from the class Clover rushed to the restroom again. Her stomach was too sore to actually force anything out and instead spent the next ten minutes dry heaving until Nero and Firefur came to find her.

The two were able to support her until they were out of the building, where Clover collapsed, stomach tightening and refusing to relax.

She groaned, and her head swam, she didn’t even know what happened next. Outside of a few flashes all she saw was her father's worried face and her mother's furious one. Was she angry at her?

Then she blacked out.

. . .

Groaning, Clover raised her head, she didn’t start to retch again but her stomach muscles refused to allow her to move and her head fell back to the ground.

“Clover!” Cyclone’s relief filled voice reached her ears.

She felt her brothers and sister crowd around her.

“You idiot,” Was Ivy’s greeting and Ghost curled around his sister, drawing his tongue over her fur, flattening it.

Ivy stood off to the side as Cyclone sat next to her.

“Hey guys,” Clover said weakly.

“Shut up,” Ivy said, her way of showing that she cared.

Clover swallowed, smiling up at her siblings as they started to catch her up on what had happened in the clan since she had been out.

“And, did you hear? Seiko says Rune puked after seeing you,” Ghost finished, “Those humans are really going to feel the wrath of the clans.”

“Yeah,” Cyclone laughed, “Icicle, Blizzard, Shadow, Roman, and Maverick are all going to the human principle. When was the last time all the clans agreed something was bad enough to each send wolves of that position?”

“World war ninety-nine,” Ivy said sarcastically.

Clover’s stomach didn’t ache nearly as much as it had, Ghost and Cyclone were talking gently to her and Ivy was cutting in snarkily whenever she disagreed with something.

She was home.

[morsingwyatt14]

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[fanfiction] Concordance, ch 3

Title: Concordance Pairing: Kururi x Piyon Word Count: 1784 Summary: He’s always thought that the beginning of any endeavor sets the tone for its success, and Professor Kururi has a good feeling about this year’s group of graduate students. A/N: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Takes place ~4 years pre-Dark Continent Arc. I hope you enjoy!

Krakatoa

Three papers on the differences between the various settlements in the Northern Ceram basin and a presentation on both the history of some of the ancient peoples in the area and the various ways their language had changed over time—rapidly, with the invention of a new kind of sailing technique and a new form of ink made from a strange type of rock that washed up on the shore after a volcanic explosion in one of the neighboring island chains—Piyon feels both an increased grasp on the different ways an ancient history can teach the present population and a frustration that she cannot delve even deeper into the world that she studies so intensely day after day.

Top marks on all assignments, and a cheerful note of encouragement written on the top of her midterm in glyphs and dashes next to a smiley face wearing lopsided glasses. She has had no trouble keeping her place at the top of the class, and has even to a degree found the work easy, all until this last, troublesome assignment cataloguing the exact meaning of a series of runes first found scrawled on the wall of a cave formation, and then copied onto planks they'd used as shields and artifacts like elaborate ritualistic bowls and carved into sections of bone. She glances at the books stacked high next to both elbows at her chair in the reading room in this section of the library. If there were people seated on either side of her, she would not have been able to see them, for how thick the reference books and geological compilations are pertaining to this small area of the world. Despite her best attempts, it has been impossible to arrange any kind of study group with her fellow classmates. There are so few of them, it seems it would be easy, but between their class schedules, work commitments, and general unwillingness to socialize, she finds herself alone yet again.

Piyon purses her lips. Sorting through the books has been a struggle of several weeks; there is so little available on the few islands of their study to fill even a single book, so she must wade through the oceans of material that lump the entire archipelago into one overestimated, tumescent conglomerate. There will be a mention of the way one particular society used a certain kind of weapon to hunt in a separate book cataloguing ancient weapons, or one of their artifacts will show up in a separate catalogue of goods from a tribe on the far-off mainland, and Piyon will have to track its movement and try to place it in the context of their history from the designs on one blurry photograph. Nothing is digitized and there are no plans to do so, and her irritation doubles, then triples as she grinds her teeth.

She stabs the page with her thumb. She hadn't even thought so highly of this one geographical area, or its people when she first started studying ancient linguistics. It is the inaccessibility of it now that drives her to learn even more. She even wants to go as far as to see it with her own eyes.

The writing on the pages blurs for a moment from lack of sleep, and she consults one of the books again. Professor Kururi himself has written several meandering articles about the subject, and his general conclusion had been that no one knows the exact meaning of the mysterious symbol, although he had been able to trace elements of its appearance to at least pin down a narrow range of creation. And each of his students had been given the same assignment, to offer their own interpretation on its meaning.

Piyon stares at one of the geological guides. The symbol was first drawn at the same time as the volcanic eruption, that had been corroborated by the ink. But what if the ink was not the method of its delivery but the very reason for its existence?

It had changed the very landscape of the region in all ways. By all accounts, clouds of ash had spread across the sea, drifting out beyond the great ocean and choking life in its immediate vicinity. Both people and animals had fled the area, and the Nankul people had welcomed most of them. It had led to a cultural and artistic renaissance of sorts. If it was not a proper name—and this was the hypothesis of one of her classmates, she remembers sullenly, the name of a king or prophet or great leader—Piyon finds herself suddenly believing the sign to be something less celebratory and something more sinister.

The blurry picture isn't even centered properly, and she traces the approximate shape as best she can into her notebook. There are interlocking rings, and spikes shooting out like spokes on a wheel, and the ink is that same black as the sooty rock.

She's seen something like it before, but it takes a moment to place it in her mind. It reminds her of a modern biohazard sign.

Perhaps something deadly had come out of the water when the volcano erupted—either from the volcano itself, or the ocean, washed ashore by the changing tides and the onrush of lava and noxious sediment. Perhaps the tribe had tried to warn others about it, or contain it in some way—either something biological, or physical, or—or—

She scratches at the sides of her head, burying her fingers in her hair. She doesn't know enough about fields of study outside this one to make more than the simplest of conjectures, but now at least a subject for her paper stands out like the scribbles from her pencil in the lined pages of her notebook.

And that's what the symbol was. A warning.

Piyon reaches into one of the oversized pockets of her jacket and draws out her phone, firing off a series of texts into the group chat for her class. Group study? I'm at the library right now.

Next time, texts Sasha, almost immediately, and Piyon is impressed by how quickly she responds for how much she hates the early mornings.

Five minutes later the quiet one, Bruce, responds with a single shrug emoji. He'd liked to joke that communicating with emojis over words was more similar to how things were done back in the times they were studying, and she'd liked to joke that this was why none of them really liked him very much.

Next time! After class? I'll bring snacks? A few more messages follow, and Piyon's heart warms at how, for the first time, they're coming together as a group, like their own little community.

A few days later she has three-quarters of a paper written and her mind is buzzing with even more possibilities. "Pass me the juice," she says, waving an arm towards one of their classmates rifling through a plastic bag. "No, the carbonated one."

"I think it's a pictogram," Sasha is saying, gesturing wildly with a lemon pastry. "If the volcano changed the nature of the landscape, it makes sense they'd try to record how it looked, especially if that area was venerated..."

"Or it could be the name of some great king! A warrior or something!"

"What did Kururi say in his article? They only formatted the kind of glyphs found in the oldest caves like instructions, or lists. The ones found beside the symbol."

Piyon screws up her face to remember. "No, he said they were written in the same ink, so they were most likely written congruently. It was the ones on the other walls that were written way earlier."

"I think he said both," Sasha says.

"Kururi says a lot of things."

"I think there's no wrong answer," one of the other girls, at the end of the table, pipes up. "Since you can't really confirm what actually happened. It's really all about how we argue our points."

A pause. Piyon chews. "Can't argue with that."

They work in relative silence for the next few minutes, the conversation punctuated by anecdotes and meanderings.

"I'm just glad this course isn't as tough as Ancient Azian History, I almost had to re-take that one—"

"The internship at the museum in Swaldani I applied for loved that I've got experience with this sort of stuff. If I get the gig I'll be translating things for their exhibits—"

"I'll just be glad if I never have to see another pottery fragment again—"

"I want to see it," Piyon says, suddenly. The more she talks, the more the notion seizes her. "With my own eyes. This land, these sites."

The table falls quiet before one of the others stifles a laugh. "It's all the way on the other side of the world."

"So?"

"Have you ever even left the country before?"

Piyon chews on the inside of her cheeks, her face red. Her fingers itch, and she picks up her phone in one hand and her pencil in the other. All of that information, at the tips of her fingers, and it's still not enough. "Not yet. But I feel like there's something there I want to know."

"Good luck with that. The whole area is an international mess," Bruce says. "I'm not sure there's a way to do it legally. Especially for a student."

Piyon falls silent, and a moment later the conversation resumes, about university sports and an upcoming holiday break. She still feels unsatisfied, but cannot place the source of her feelings. She presents her paper to the class to Professor Kururi's raving support, and makes plans to return the books she'd checked out and book travel for the fall holiday. She even orders a new jacket from an app on her phone, striped with cropped sleeves, for the newly-arriving colder weather.

The thought that she could be on a beach, using the languages she's studied, instead of sitting in the basement of a library reading textbooks aspiring to be as old as the subjects they're based on, is appealing beyond measure. She wants to ask Kururi if he's ever been, if he wants to go, if he's content with the theory or wants to put his knowledge into practice.

She glances at the syllabus, tucked away inside a folder and marked with a bright purple pen where she'd translated the original Nankul-ese. Professor Kururi's office hours are translated beneath the assignment deadlines; she'd never once bothered to go visit him. With a wince, she's really not sure any of the others have, either.

He has one more appointment before the break. She doesn't think she'll have much to compete with for his time.

--

Notes:

1) My original plan for this was to make it a series of small one-shots, each referencing a different aspect of Piyon's linguistics graduate school experience, from classroom to language labs, study groups, and office hours. There will be four chapters total, and I'm working on building a greater narrative and incorporating some minor mystery elements into the story as it progresses, especially relating to the Dark Continent. There's a lot we still don't know about it, so I'm having fun thinking about how Kururi in particular could have been drawn into Beyond's team and have a more personal stake in the expedition.

2) Ceram is a reference to the Ceram Sea, one of several small seas between the scattered islands of Indonesia (wiki). The sea is very rocky and tectonically active. Krakatoa refers to the 1883 Krakatoa volcanic eruption in Indonesia; ash fell on Singapore over 500 miles away and on ships as far as 3,775 miles away (x); the sound from the third and largest explosion was heard in Perth, Australia at 1930 miles and as far away as the island of Rodrigues at 3,000 miles (wiki). The tsunamis created from the eruption were also quite devastating, and temperatures globally fell by several degrees. I wonder if events like this if replicated in the Hunter World could affect somewhere as far away as the Dark Continent; I am also curious about characters like Piyon and Kururi and others who study "ancient" history...just what does "ancient" mean to those in the Hunter World? Is it ~500 years ago? A thousand? Or more? I've taken a mash-up approach in looking at how historical elements (many inspired from our own global history) could combine to create the ideal conditions for perhaps one of humanity's first interactions with the Dark Continent.

3) Here, have another one of Kururi's cute faces:

4) Thank you for reading! I would appreciate and value your comments.

[kristiansenoneil7]

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[katcoquette]

Hello! I was wondering if I could get a marauders era Harry Potter ship? I’d love a marvel one too but if you’re only good with one fandom let’s go with hp!

Gender/Pronouns: I identify as female and go by she/her.

Sexuality: I am bisexual.

Hogwarts house: slytherin with ravenclaw tendencies.

Mbti + enneagram: I’m an intp enneagram 8w9.

Star sign: Leo

Relationship: I would like a romantic ship.

Love language: My love language is acts of service.

Physical Traits: I’m 5’1, with tanned skin, dark brown hair and eyes. I have average to slim build. I wear glasses too.

Personality Traits: Im creative, curious, imaginative, cunning, witty, a bit of a loner, and very closed off when u first meet me but then if I like you I’ll warm up to you.

Hobbies: My hobbies are digital and fine art, video gaming and making, kickboxing, reading and watching movies.

Likes/Dislikes: I love spending time alone with myself in my own world. I love intelligence but not to the point of arrogance. I loose my temper very easily when someone thinks they know anything and everything while having nothing to learn. I love debating theories and ideas. I love hanging out with anyone who will listen and bounce of my ideas no matter how otherworldly they are. I hate shallowness. I absolutely hate small talk and being in large groups. I also dislike when people assume that I’m lonely if I’m alone.

Hope this works and thank you once again! 💚

Your wish is my command! <3

DOUBLE SHIP! I ship you with...James Potter/Yelena Belova!

I only had a secondary pairing for your Marvel ship, and that would be Loki.

HP: Leo + Aries is an intuitive pairing.

You each know what the other is thinking just by looking at each other. When your friends catch onto this, they’re sure you’re messing with them, but it’s real: you know each other well. This doesn’t mean the two of you don’t talk. He’s always there to listen to your ideas and brainstorm with you.

You’re intriguing to him. The first time he saw you was from across the courtyard, and he had to do a double take, stepping backward when he spotted you sitting in an alcove reading a book. There was something calming about you, though you were alone you radiated a warmth that he wanted to be addicted to.

James would do anything to make your life easier, and to make it even better, he takes initiative to do things he knows would help you. During exam season, he straightens your room. If he knows you’re stressed, he’ll show up with your favorite treats and hold you in his arms, just listening to anything you feel like sharing. He carries your books for you, offers to get your potion supplies, and (attempts) helps you with your homework. He absolutely adores you, and wants everyone to know it.

Marvel: Leo + Aries is an adventurous pairing.

You met at an outdoor theater, of all places. You’d both gone alone, knowing the importance of spending time with yourself, but ended up sitting next to each other. Although you didn’t talk much, you found comfort in each other’s presences and decided to go on an actual date.

Yelena is constantly on the move, but you keep her grounded, showing her how to slow down and appreciate the little things in life. The two of you have lots of things in common, like not wanting to be in large groups, and liking to spend time alone. She didn’t think she’d ever find someone that made her not want to be alone, but she found that with you.

Kickboxing is one of your favorite things to do together. She likes the idea of you being prepared to handle anything that could come your way because of her past. Whenever you create something, she’s the first person that you show because she has a hard time hiding her emotions, so you know her overwhelming excitement is always genuine. She’s a fierce protector, and you quickly became someone she cared for. Overall, you challenge each other, and that keeps your lives interesting.

[miekasa]

positions

+ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: modern au, explicit smut (18+ only), eren is annoying but he’s also hot so it makes up for it i guess 🙄

+ word count: 3k

+ notes: i don’t want to talk about this actually, so if you see it, no you didn’t </2 i kind of got carried away with number three. sorry.

+ summary: eren just likes it with you—will take you however you want him to; but he does have a few favorite positions.

i. missionary — (i’m trying to meet your mama on a sunday, then make a lotta love on a monday).

Eren always did like looking at you. He thinks you’re gorgeous, sexy, and so, so, pretty; all the time, but especially like this.

Because there isn’t anything he likes more than watching you squirm because of him; breath unsteady and voice whiny because of him.

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” Eren asks, but question is rhetorical; and you’re barely coherent enough to answer him—like he’s fucked you stupid.

“Course you are,” he answers for you, reaching his right hand up to slip his pointer and middle finger past your lips.

You moan around him, warm, wet heat compassing his digits as you let Eren’s fingers fuck your mouth in sync with him thrust into your pussy. It’s only when he feels your spit pooling on your tongue that he pulls them out, immediately using the soaked fingers to further abuse your sensitive clit.

“My pretty, pretty girl,” Eren sings, tapping at your clit in sync with his repeated words.

Eren smirks through his pants as he drinks in your fucked-out state. He likes the way your eyes are screwed shut, high-pitched moans barely squeaking out as you grip at the sheets. Your back arches when he snaps his hips harder, deeper, and—oh, no, that won’t do.

“No, no, baby be good,” he coos, reaching his hand to press over your tummy and flatten your back to the mattress.

“Eren, please,” you barely choke out, head writhing against the pillow, “Just wanna come, please.”

“Just wanna come?” he repeats, but his tone is taunting, almost fiendish at this point, “‘M not stopping you baby, all you have to do is be good for me.”

“I am good,” you insist, words rushed, desperate, “I’m good for you—your good girl, Eren.”

Eren hums at your words, and bends his knee onto the bed, groaning after you as he hits a spot deeper inside of you. He moves his left hand off of your stomach to support himself on the mattress, and reaches his right hand up, crawling up the column of your throat.

He pinches his pointer finger and thumb at your jaw, leaning down until the tip of his nose brushes against yours, “Open.”

He barely waits until there’s a gap between your lips before he pries your mouth open himself with his thumb, the pad of his finger pushing against your tongue. He flashes you a sadistic smirk before spitting into your mouth, the tip of his tongue grazing against yours before retreating back into his mouth, “Swallow.” 

Your breath is unsteady as your do as you’re told, opening your mouth again to show him just how good you listened; how good you are. A smile washes over his face for a second before he leans forward to kiss you—the kind of kiss he gives before he’s about to fuck you silly, “Good girl.”

ii. against the wall — (cookin’ in the kitchen, and i’m in the bedroom)

Eren isn’t a good cook and he knows it. He’s not terrible—he won’t starve if he ever lived on his own, but he’s no master chef.

It’s probably why he likes watching you cook so much. He would say he likes to help, too, but that would be a lie; he just likes being your taste tester, and distracting you a little bit while he’s at it.

“Did you set the oven to 400?” you ask him, back turned as you pick a wooden spoon from the drawer and bring it to the bowl.

Eren hums, eyes flickering to the oven to ensure that he did, indeed, set it to the right temperature, before taking the few steps necessary to close the distance between you two. Slowly, he wraps his arms around your waist, lightly draping his body over yours as he watches you stir the batter.

“Smells like lemons,” he notes, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Probably because we’re making lemon cake,” you chuckle, bringing your stirring to a stop.

You dip your pointer finger carefully into the batter before bringing it to your lips. You crinkle your nose a bit, before dipping you finger back into the batter, this time hovering it in front of Eren’s lips, “Here, taste. Do you think it needs more sugar? Or maybe vanilla?”

Eren’s gazes flicks from your batter-coated finger, then to your eyes, like a magnet; green growing cloudy with arousal. Carefully, slowly, he pushes forward until his lips wrap around your finger, teeth grazing your digit when he pulls back.

“No,” he answers, voice raspy, “It’s perfect.”

“You sure?” you question, words genuine and innocent; oblivious to the angle he’s playing at.

Eren unwraps his arms from your waist, steps back far enough to allow him to spin you around, you lower back pressed into the counter, and eyes wide. He smiles, reaches his hand into the bowl, but instead of waiting for you to taste it, he brushes it against your mouth, before forcing his finger past your lips, just far enough to clean the remaining batter against your tongue.

“Positive,” Eren says, before bruising his lips against yours in a kiss. Quickly, his tongue flashes to swipe against your bottom lip, bringing sticky, sweet cake batter into your mouth.

Then, he lifts you, skillfully moving the bowl aside to make room for you on the counter; knocking over measuring cups and utensils in his path that are sure to leave a mess, but right now you don’t care. Eren always did like things messy, after all.

Eren’s hands paw at the hem of your shirt, clumsily pulling it over your head. He hisses when you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him back down into a searing kiss, and biting at his lower lip in revenge.

A yelp of surprise leaves yours lips as he grips under your thighs and picks you up from the counter. Eren groans when your tangle your hands into his hair, using it as both leverage and support.

“Fuck,” he mutters when you accidentally press yourself against his bulge in an attempt to tighten your legs around his waist. You pull away slightly, breath tickling his face as your eyes jump from his to his lips.

Carefully you comb your fingers through his hair again, elbows resting on his shoulders as you catch your breath.

“Question,” you pose, breathing heavily through your syllables, “How long do you think you can hold me up for?”

“Like this? A while, probably.” Eren replies moving his hands up from under your thighs to your ass.

“But like this,” Eren takes a few steps forwards until your back is pushing against the wall. He smirks when he sees the small gape at your mouth, and squeezes at your ass to exaggerate your expression, before leaning into to whisper in your ear, “A whole lot longer.”

iii. double date — (this some shit that I usually don’t do, but for you I kinda want to)

Armin’s fingers are, surprisingly, rough. More calloused than you would think; for the rest of him is all soft edges and round features; all smooth and nice and kind and good. 

But, not like this. The Armin whose eyes gaze up at you from your legs is hardly anything like that. He’s not the Armin you know; this one is teasing, relentless, almost manic; he’s mean and he knows it.

You can see it in his eyes, that the Armin you know and love is nowhere in sight. Because when Eren pushes his finger inside of you next to Armin’s, you swear those clear, blue eyes that are usually so bright become icy with intent. 

“She’s so pretty, Eren,” Armin says to his friend, but his gaze is on you as he twists his finger inside, knuckles bumping against Eren’s. You throw your head back with a grunted moan, and barely have the strength to hold it up again to see Armin’s smirk, “So pretty.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Eren coos, green eyes smiling at you.

It’s almost too much, the both of them looking at you from between your legs. You’re not sure which one to focus on—if you have the strength to meet either of their gazes for more an a second before screwing your eyes shut, overwhelmed by it. The attention, the feeling, the shared lust is all too much.

“Armin, hold on, let me—” Eren grunts, twisting his finger inside of you, so that it intertwines with Armin’s, “There we go.”

The sensation drives you crazy, the feeling of their fingers brushing against each other—brushing against your walls makes your head spin, and you curl your own fingers into a ball at your sides. It’s only two fingers—but it feels foreign, new, too much; it makes you thrash, they way they pump their digits inside of you, perfectly in sync, perfectly full every time.

It’s new to you, but Eren and Armin have always been best friends; it’s not abnormal for them to share. And they do it so well.

“Eren, Armin, I—” you call, almost wail at you feel someone’s fingertips brush past your weak spot, “Please.”

Your hips rise as you groan with the feeling, and as if rehearsed, the both of their free hands are quick to snap you back against the mattress. When you look down at them, Eren has a dirty look in his eyes, but Armin’s is dirtier—as if you let you know that that he did that; that he planned it, too.

“Don’t be rude,” Eren tuts, “Armin’s being so nice to you, so be good for him. Be good for us.”

You almost want to cry—if this is his nice, you’ve severely underestimated the Armin Arlert you know.  

“You wanna come, yeah?” Armin asks you, with a tone so light and genuine, you would never think he’s capable of anything he’s currently doing.

You nod your head embarrassingly quickly, a stuttered moan slipping out as both boys tighten their told on each other’s fingers; and Armin smirks with glassy eyes before lowering his head closer to your center, “Don’t worry, I’ll let you.”

Armin’s eyes flicker to Eren’s only for a moment, a ghost of a nod shared before the two boys before Armin’s tongue is flat against your slit. You hiss, incoherent moans escaping your throat; Armin is merciless, licking, and sucking until it hurts to breathe.

Your eyes flutter shut when Armin pushes the tip of his tongue against your clit, both his and Eren’s fingers slowing in time with his movement, before speeding up just as he sucks at the bud again. Eren bites a kiss into your thigh, hand squeezing at your hips again.

“I said be good,” he reminds you, sucking at your skin again with warning, “Look at him.”

You don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, that the second you make eye contact with the blonde again, he sucks on your clit; not ceasing his actions until you come with hot, white flashes resonating through your body.

You can hear them laugh at your collapse, Eren gently kissing your shaking thigh as your body goes limp. Eren shimmies his body up slightly, pulling both his and Armin’s fingers from your pussy and guiding them to your lips.

“Taste,” is his simple command, ordering you to open your mouth wide enough to take both of their fingers.

Eren hums through a laugh, before turning his head to Armin. He takes his fingers out of your mouth, brings his hand to the back of his friend’s head, grabbing tufts of blonde hair in his grip, and angling his head for a perfect kiss, “Share.”

You can barely register their mouths moving together, lewd sounds and flashes of tongue in their kissing, before your head falls back against your pillow again. They’ll be the end of you someday, you’re certain of it.

Your reaction makes Armin chuckle—almost innocently, but you know now you’ve been using that word far too liberally with him. He crawls up to lay next you, gently cradling your cheek with one hand to pull your face to his.

“Good right?” he asks gently, a light kiss placed on your bruised lips.

“Hm,” you can just barely nod, eyes flickering to stay open, “Eren was right.”

Eren finds himself at your other side, pressing feather-light kisses into your neck and jaw, “Told you so, baby.”

“Eren would know,” Armin smiles, and those blue eyes are coated with a layer of mischief once again, “He speaks from personal experience, after all.”

iv. the throne — (you’re down for me, and i’m down, too)

“You have to be careful,” you warn him, “It won’t be very sexy if I fall over into the tub.”

Eren hums, with the intonation that tells you he heard you, but he’s not really listening. He peppers kisses along your thigh, hands greedy; grabbing and pinching at your skin. He uses one hand to pry your legs open wider; one knee bent, foot resting against the side of your bathtub, while the other is grounded against the tiles, and Eren on his knees below you.

You don’t know why this is a fantasy of his—and why he wants to do it now, in the bathroom of all places, but you admit you give into him more than you should.

He wraps his forearms under your thighs, reaching so that the palm of his hands pull at your skin; and pull you closer to his face. Nervous, you grip at the sink for extra support.

Eren smirks below you, peppering an apologetic kiss dangerously close to your center. You growl, using your free hand to grab at his hair, crane his neck back to make him look at you.

“Eren, listen to me,” you tell him. He knows your voice has annoyance laced in it, but it’s also heavy with authority, and makes blood rush to his pants.

Raised eyebrows lower slowly, his pupils wide and blown out at your sudden command; before his surprise morphs into lust. “Of course, baby,” he concedes, licking at your clit too quickly, “Tell me what you want. I’ll listen.”

You squint with disbelief. Nothing is ever that straightforward with Eren; even when he’s on his knees about to give, he’s asking something of you, too. Nevertheless, you loosen your hold on his hair in favor of cradling his head more gently.

“Just,” you start, a shaky breath escaping through your words when Eren’s tongue prods at your clit, “Just make sure I don’t fall.”

Eren hums, vibrations resonating throughout your body, a hissed curse slipping past your lips. “Of course,” he repeats, “I wouldn’t want to hurt my baby.”

You nod, breath growing increasing unsteady when Eren circles your clit with his tongue. He gets greedy, alternating between licking, and kissing, and sucking; and relishing in your body growing heavy in his hands.

“Though,” he says, words spoken muffled against your sensitive skin, but those green eyes are bright and bold when they look at you, “If you’re afraid of falling, you could always sit on my face instead.”

v. love on top — (my love’s infinite, nothing I wouldn’t do, won’t do, for you)

You’re pretty like this, too. Pretty all the time—but if there’s one thing Eren likes more than you under him, it’s you on top of him.

“You’re so hot like this,” he says, voice thick with lust, as he reaches out to rest his hands against your hips.

Eren likes the way you bounce on top of him, thighs shaking against his. He’s surprised when you move your hands to take his off of you—quick to question your motives, before you lace your hands with his, a weak, but sweet smile when your fingers are intertwined.

He smiles back, using your connected hands to pull you forward, elbows bent, the back of his hands plush against the sheets, while your palms hold them down. You’re bent over now, tummy pressed against his, and Eren can feel you breathing into the crook of his neck.

He bends his knee to give him some leverage, adding his own thrusts while you desperately bounce back on his cock.

“B—babe… ‘M gonna come,” he moans, and it’s not long before he’s cumming inside of you. He unlaces one of his hands from yours, using it to rest against the small of your back as you shake through your own orgasm, open mouthed kisses pressed into his collar.

You lay like that for a bit, before Eren pulls out. He has to move you off of him to throw away the condom; but is quick to find his way back to the bed, rolling onto the mattress unceremoniously. He lays facing you, and reaches a hand out, palm open and waiting.

You roll your eyes, but lazily meet him halfway as he daps you up; a stupid smile on his face. He shuffles onto his back, and pulls you on top of him, this time using both hands to wrap around your waist.

“That was so hot,” he muses, love-drunk on you and tracing random patterns into your skin, “You should—should do that more often.”

You curl your hands up to circle his head, lazy fingers playing with his hair, as you nuzzle your head into his chest, eyes fluttering shut, as sleep takes over your body, “Maybe.”

(Definitely).

[study-coffee-chicago]

Stupid Game...But They’re All in High School This Time AU (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister Imagine)

Trigger warning for very graphic attempted sexual assault

"What are the rules?" Jay asked you as you double-checked your backpack to make sure you had everything for the first day of your freshman year of high school.

You sighed and zipped up your backpack. Your two older brothers, Jay a junior, and Will a senior, had already gone over and over this with you. "No spaghetti straps, no backpacks in class--"

"Not written school rules," Jay told you, abruptly cutting you off. "Unwritten school rules."

"Oh," you said as Will entered the living room, holding his car keys in his hand. "Walk on the right side of the hallways, always remember your locker combination or write it somewhere so you will remember it after long breaks, and no talking to the varsity football players unless it's Adam, Kevin, or Kelly because all the rest of them are absolute douchebags."

"There it is," Jay said and grabbed onto the handle of your backpack. "And if someone does this?" He tugged hard and you flew backward.

"Turn around and swing," you told him and quickly regained your balance once he let go.

"Jesus, Jay," Will said and smacked Jay upside the head, resulting in Jay letting out an ow in response. "Don't scare the poor girl. No one's gonna do that. It only happens in the movies." He turned back to you. "Don't listen to him."

"So, all that unwritten rules stuff I can just forget?" you asked.

"No, that was all legit. Just the backpack tug thing was a lie. Now let's go before--"

"Will, Jay, Y/N!" The three of you groaned when you heard your mom's voice calling you and then stepping into the living room. "Take off your backpacks and go on the front porch."

The three of you groaned again.

"Mom," Jay whined. "Do you we have to take a first day of school picture every single year?"

"Yes. And it's your brother's first day of senior year and your sister's first day of high school in general. So, get out on the porch and quit complaining. The faster I take this picture, the faster the three of you can leave."

You all grumbled and then went out on the porch to take a picture. Even though it was early September in Chicago, it was sweltering hot out. You thanked your lucky stars that Will's car had working AC because you knew that some of your friend's older siblings didn't have working AC in their cars and they always complained about how hot it was on the ride to and from school. But, it was better than taking the bus.

Once you had finished taking the pictures (and Jay pulled your hair in one of them so Will told Jay he has to sit in the backseat on the way to school and you got the passenger seat), you got in Will's car.

***

"So, meet you right here after school?" you asked Will when you entered the high school through the double doors of the main entrance.

"Yup. Jay, you got a ride home from soccer practice?" Will asked.

"Yeah. Adam's dropping me off at home. But I swear to God if I have to sit in the backseat one more time--"

"Give it a rest. I could've stepped on your foot, but I figured you'd need it for soccer. So, I let you off easy."

"Whatever," Jay mumbled.

You started to walk towards the freshman hallway and wondered why Jay and Will were still walking with you when you passed the junior and senior lockers. But, then you saw a huge group of varsity football players in the long hallway between the sophomore and freshman hallways, pointing at girls they thought got prettier or skinnier over the summer or new freshman girls for them to hit on or have a one night fling with.

"I'm gonna need to tell Kelly to keep his boys in line," Jay said to Will.

"No shit," Will replied.

"Don't you creeps have anything better to do?" Jay yelled at them. "And, I see at least three of you who are eighteen, so I'd recommend you stop ogling at minors and get back to watching tapes or something so we can actually make it to the playoffs this year."

"And what are you--" a football player who was obviously new on varsity stepped forward and started to say, but another one pulled him back.

"Dude, he's stronger than he looks and they're both best friends with Severide. So, shut the fuck up," he told the new varsity player.

"Yeah, listen to your friend," Will said. "C'mon, Y/N, just keep walking."

You did as he told you and shook off the weird encounter.

"They stop after homecoming," Will told you as he took a piece of paper from you and looked at what locker number you had.

"What do you mean after homecoming?" you asked.

Jay and Will shared a look. They had never told you about the game the football players had from late September/early October until homecoming which was usually mid-October/late October.

"We'll explain later," Will said. You walked a few more steps until you found your locker.

Next to you, there was a girl with blond hair who was wearing a flannel and jeans and brown combat boots who was helping a freshman with their locker as well.

"Alright," Will said. "So, this is your combination. Don't feel bad if you forget it after Christmas or spring break. Everyone goes to the office to ask for their combo when they get back, so don't feel embarrassed about it."

Will showed you how to unlock your locker, but it didn't budge. He tried it again. Nothing. Then, he let Jay have a go at it. Again, nothing.

"Need help?" the blond next to you asked. She was now done helping the other freshman with their locker.

Jay opened his mouth to tell her no, but you said yes faster than he could answer.

Will handed her the paper with the combination and she tried it. Nothing.

She looked down at another paper she was holding. "Ah, I know why this one isn't working. It's on the flagged list."

"The flagged list?" you asked.

"Yeah. They didn't have time to fix  some of the lockers during the summer, but they'll be getting to them this weekend, so you should only have to deal with it being crappy like this the first week," she answered.

She tried your combination again, pushed up on the lock, and then kicked the bottom of the locker.

It opened.

"Upton!" A teacher yelled. "No kicking lockers!"

"This one was flagged!" she yelled back. "Only way to get it to open!"

"Fine. I guess it's okay for this week." The teacher narrowed his eyes. "Halstead."

"Mr. Williams," Jay said and then turned back and rolled his eyes.

"What's up with him?" you asked Will.

"Yeah, Jay may or not have fired spitballs at Mr. Williams freshman year," Will answered.

"That was you?" the girl asked. "I remembered hearing that a soccer player did it, but I never got the name. Guess now I know it was you, Jay."

"Yes, it was me, Hailey." So, this girl's name was Hailey.

"Wait, you two know each other?" you asked.

"We had what, an English class together last year?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, first semester because then I got put in the honors class," Hailey said.

"That class always seemed so much more for than the normal class," Jay mused.

"Too bad you can't write papers for shit," Will told his little brother.

"Shut up," Jay groaned.

Will looked up at one of the digital clocks in the hallway. "We should get going," he said. "We've only got fifteen minutes until we have to be in homeroom."

"Good luck, fresh meat," Jay joked and you rolled your eyes as your two older brothers walked off to their wing of the school that housed their lockers.

"Want some help putting your things in here?" Hailey asked. "I have a pass to get to class half an hour late since I'm on student council and helping you guys out."

"Uh, sure, since you're here. Mind if I close my locker and then try opening it myself?" you asked.

"Go for it."

You closed your locker and then did the exact same thing she did to get your locker open, including the kick. It opened on your first try.

"Perfect!" Hailey said. You unzipped your backpack and you and Hailey stooped down to grab folders, binders, and notebooks out of it. "I'm sorry, I never actually introduced myself. I'm Hailey Upton."

"Y/N Halstead," you replied. "Those two doofuses who just left are my brothers, Jay and Will, seems like you already knew Jay, though."

"I mean, I don't really know him. I guess I know of him if that makes sense."

"Makes total sense."

The two of you continued to put stuff in your locker until everything was in there, just in time for the five-minute bell to ring.

You looked at your schedule. "You don't happen to know where Mr. V's room is, do you? My brothers told me it's not in the freshman or sophomore halls."

"Oh, yeah. You just go down the connecting hallway and past the junior and senior lockers and then you'll see-- you know what, I'll walk you there. It's kind of hard to find."

"Thank you."

"No problem. We've all been freshmen before."

***

Hailey entered her AP biology class just as the late bell rang. She took the first empty seat she saw...which ended up being next to none other than Will Halstead.

"Hey," Hailey said. "This seat wasn't saved, was it?"

"No," Will replied. "It's yours now." He looked at Hailey. "You were the one who helped my sister with her locker this morning, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm Hailey."

"Will," he told her.

"So," their teacher, Mr. Davis began, "since this is an AP class, there will be a lot more homework than a typical biology class. I also know some of you are juniors, so I hope that you take AP anatomy and physiology next year with me if you do well in this class. As for you seniors who are taking this AP class and AP A and P--which stands for anatomy and physiology by the way--I know that the first three chapters of this class overlap a lot, so I'm sorry if you get bored.

"But, the person you have chosen to sit next to, will be your partner for any projects we have this semester. And, they aren't typical projects like presentations and the like. They're mostly practice AP tests that I want you to take with another person so that you can talk over the answers and make sure you don't make the same mistake twice. Obviously, around February, I'll ask you to take the practice tests by yourself so that you can practice for the real tests.

"Every chapter there will be presentations. I will give each pair a sub-topic of the chapter and I want you to do a five to ten minute presentation on it for the class. I also want you to put together a Kahoot for your subsection after the presentation because I found that that makes students pay way more attention than when there isn't one because everyone wants to win."

Hailey raised her hand. "Yes, remind me of your name," he said when he pointed to Hailey.

"Hailey," she told him.

"Hailey," he repeated and scribbled her name on the piece of paper with the seating chart on his desk. "Oh, and after I go over all this, I would like all of you to come and write your name on the seating chart. Hailey of course won't have to write her name because she doesn't need to be on there twice. Anyway, what was your question?"

"I was just wondering how many practice tests we'll have to take and how often you were should meet up with our partner outside of school?" Hailey asked.

"Both great questions. For the practice tests, we'll start taking them in November because that gives us time to go over the format and content. Don't worry, I won't put any new content on the practice tests. I'm not that mean. You'll take one in November, one in December, and one in January. These will all be done with your seat partner. Then, from February on, you'll have one every month, but these will be taken by yourselves so that you get used to it before the actual test.

"As for meeting up with your partner, I'd recommend every two weeks. That way you won't fall behind on the presentations."

Hailey nodded and scribbled this information down in her notebook. But, she was also nervous. She couldn't let Will come to her house. She just had to hope that Will would have all the meetings at his house.

***

"How was your first day?" Will asked when you met him at the main doors after school.

"It was good. Not as scary as you guys made it seem. Still need to make sure I get to my classes on time, though," you replied as the two of you walked out of the building and through the parking lot towards his car.

"They'll give you a grace period to get to class on time," Will told you. "It's usually a week, week and a half until they start handing out tardies."

You were about to ask how his day was, when someone yelling stopped you.

"Nice ass, Halstead!"

Your jaw dropped and your eyes bugged out of your head as you and Will both turned around. Of course, it was a varsity football player who yelled that, of course, it was.

Will put his hand in front of you. "Y/N, I'm gonna give you my keys and you're going to unlock my car and get inside."

"Will, he's not worth it," you argued.

"Y/N, take my damn keys. I don't want you anywhere near this."

You relented and took his keys and then went and got in the passenger seat of his car. But, you watched as everything unfolded.

Will stalked up to the football player, who he knew was Derek Evans, the school fuck boy who every girl liked because he was a shoo-in to get drafted by the NFL right after high school and had really good looks even though he was a total sexist asshole.

"What the fuck did you just say to my sister?" Will roared.

"Said she had a nice ass," he replied while shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"You son of a--" Will lunged at him but Kevin and Kelly ran in to hold him back. Turns out they were walking out of school and saw the entire exchange.

"Will! calm the fuck down!" Kelly shouted as he pushed Will back.

"Did you not hear what he said?" Will yelled as he kept reaching out to Derek.

Kevin was pushing Derek back, too.

"We did. But you can't be fighting on the first day. If you're gonna do it, do it somewhere else not on school grounds."

"Both you, take a damn breath and walk away," Kevin told them.

Kelly pushed Will back and then grabbed his arm and walked him towards his car while Kevin walked Derek towards the football field.

"You better fucking do something about that, Severide," Will told him.

"Believe me, I'll make sure he runs lap for the entirety of practice."

"I meant punch his face in."

"Can't do that, man. I got scholarships on the line."

"At least let me bring my baseball bat to school and bash his face in. If my batting average is any indication, I could knock him out and kill him in one swing."

"That would be murder and then you'd be in prison instead of going to med school." Kelly paused and took a deep breath. "I guess now's not a great time to tell you, but freshmen are up for grabs in the game this year. The players all said they weren't going to do it because the coaches banned it, but they're going to try and be sneaky. Only writing the points down on paper and burning it, no texting about it or putting it on social media, you can only talk about it on the phone or in person, and it can't be talked about at school."

"Fuck. So the girls won't really know what's going on until it starts."

"Exactly. Just, let Y/N know, okay? And have her pass it on to some of the other freshmen...because we both know if they go to Principal White he won't do shit."

"Yeah, he's as much of a son of a bitch as Evans. But, I'll tell her. Thanks, Kelly."

***

"Jay!" Will yelled when Jay walked inside all sweaty after his soccer practice.

"What? Dude, I need a shower," he said as he threw his soccer bag and his backpack down by the door.

"Better pick that up before Mom gets home. She'll be pissed if she comes home at 3 am and trips over it."

Your mom was a nurse and worked from 2:30 pm-2:30 am, which meant she only saw you in the morning for four days a week...even though she's only supposed to work three days a week, so 36 hours, but she always picked up an extra day so that she could put some money in all of your guys' college funds. Sometimes, she'd even work five days a week and she'd be exhausted once her week was over. But, she was the hardest worker you knew and inspired you to work as hard as you possibly could at everything you did; you never did anything half-assed because you never saw your mom do that. She always gave it her all.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I want to shower," Jay said.

"Wait five minutes. This is important," Will told him.

Jay sat down on the couch next to him. "Fine. What is it?"

So, Will explained what happened when he and you walked out of school today and how Kelly had to hold him back so that he wouldn't beat Derek Evans to a pulp. He also told him that the game was still on...and this time freshmen are fair game.

"Fucking hell," Jay muttered.

"Yeah," Will agreed.

"Should we tell her?"

"Probably. The sooner the better, too."

"Okay. Let me jump in the shower and then we can tell her and tell her how to protect herself."

Ten minutes later, Jay was out of the shower and he knocked on your bedroom door, Will right behind him. When he didn't get an answer after a few rounds of knocking, he opened your door.

"She's sleeping. Guess we'll have to tell her when she wakes up," Jay said.

"As long as we tell her tonight," Will said. "The more time she has to prepare for what's to come, the better."

***

"Jesus. Fuck," you muttered as you rolled over and looked at the time on your phone. After stretching and jumping out of bed, you walked from your bedroom into the kitchen, to see your brothers both eating pasta. "Neither of you two bothered to wake me up? It's 6:30."

"Figured you needed the sleep," Will shrugged. "Dinner's in the fridge. Mom made lasagna."

You grabbed yourself a plate and then put some lasagna on it and put it in the microwave. Then you sat down across from Jay and Will who were both sitting on the same side of the kitchen table.

"How was your first day?" Jay asked.

"Good...other than Wiliams making me sit in the front right in front of his desk. I don't mind the front because then I can see the board easier, but his desk, really? This one's all your fault." You pointed your fork at Jay.

Jay held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, really wasn't thinking about you when I fired those spitballs."

"What were you thinking about?" Will asked.

"That I needed to aim for his head."

"My god, you're a child," you laughed. "And, Will about ripped a football player's head off today. I think his name was Derek? He would've, too if Kelly didn't hold him back."

"But he said you had a nice ass," Will quoted. "Pretty sure that warrants me ripping his head off."

"Will's right," Jay agreed. "I would've pushed past Kelly and beat Evans to a pulp."

"Good to know you guys have my back. But, I'm in high school now. You can't keep fighting my battles for me."

"Too bad," Will said. "You're stuck with us."

"Ugh," you groaned and took a bite of your lasagna. "How was your day, Will?" you asked once you had finished the bite. "Any talk of what the senior prank will be?"

"We didn't actually talk about that. But, the girl who helped you with your locker, Hailey, she's my partner in my AP bio class," Will answered. Jay coughed. "You alright there, Jay?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

"Anyway," Will began, "she'll be coming round here a bit because we have to do these presentations. She said her brothers are usually home, so she'll probably come here most of the time. Oh, Y/N, she also told me to tell you that if there's ever a day where you can't find anyone to sit with at lunch, that you can always sit with her."

"Really? That's so nice of her. I wish I had classes with her," you said.

"Okay, since it's obvious neither of you is going to ask about my day because I'm the forgotten middle child," Jay started, causing both you and Will to roll your eyes, "I'm just gonna tell you. Nothing important happened. They just drilled that we have to take the SAT into our heads. Oh, and we have read like this 16th century crap in English 11, so that sucks."

"English 11 is the worst," Will agreed. "Good luck."

The three of you continued to eat and the Will started talking again when he and Jay were finished and you were almost done.

"So, Y/N, there's this sick and twisted tradition at school," Will began with a worried look on his face. "And it ends after homecoming."

"So that's what you were implying earlier," you said.

"Yeah, so what happens is that the football players kinda sorta get dares to do, but they aren't specifically dares. It's like there's a list of things they do with a girl and there's points attached to them. Like, apparently if a guy grabs a girl's ass in the hallway or anywhere else on the school's campus or at a school event, it's 50 points. But, since that's pretty tame, that's the only one that actually has to be done on campus. The rest of them can be off or on-campus...but they'd probably be off-campus," Will explained.

"I'm confused. So they get points for assaulting us?" you asked.

"Technically, it's just harassment...but some of the other ones could be classified as assault. But, those ones are supposed to be consensual, so the only risk you really run is having your butt grabbed in the hallway. Jay, you wanna take it from here?"

"Uh, yeah," Jay answered. "Usually freshmen are off-limits, but this year they changed the rules, so they're allowed. But, Kelly, Kevin, and Adam opted out because they're decent human beings, so if you see them in the hallway, you're safe; you don't have to be scared of them."

"But the rest...?" you trailed off.

"The rest of the varsity football team you need to be aware of."

"So, when does this game start and what do I do?"

"It starts in two weeks and goes on for a month, so until homecoming. As for what to do, well most girls just wear long shirts to cover their butts and not wear super tight pants," Jay told you.

"And if me or Jay have a class close to one of yours, we can walk you to your locker or to your next class. That should help a bit," Will offered.

"Thanks. That might help. But, why hasn't Mr. White stopped it?" you asked.

"Because he's as much of a sexist asshole as the football players. But, it's only a month. You can get through it," Will promised.

"God I hope so."

***

It had been two weeks since you started high school and in two days that stupid game of grab ass would begin. Hailey and Will were currently working on their presentation in the kitchen and Jay was playing at an away soccer game...which is where your mom was, too. You were sitting in your room working on your planner for next week.

You looked at your planner and saw Monday was circled and said The Game in black ink. God, why did guys have to be such sexist pigs? Just because they were the football players didn't mean they got on pass on all the school rules and hell, even all the general rules of society.

You shook your head and turned up your music and started writing in your classes for that week in your planner.

A few songs later, you thought you heard a knock on your door, so you took out one of your headphones. "Yeah?" you asked.

"Y/N, it's Hailey. Can I come in?" she asked from the other side of your door.

"Yeah," you told her as you took out the other headphone and paused your music. "What's up?" you asked when she entered.

"Will told me you're really nervous for the game starting this week?" she motioned to the spot next to you on your bed. "Can I sit?" You nodded and she sat down. "Honestly, you just have to be on high alert for a whole month. Try to walk by other people whenever you can and, I think Will said they already told you this, but don't wear tight-fitting clothing."

"They did. I just don't know what to wear."

"Well, I can help you with that. Let's go through your clothes and we'll take out what you can't wear during this and put it in another drawer, okay?"

"That sounds good." You closed your planner and you and Hailey began going through your dresser and closet.

"Another tip," she started, "if you have the chance to knee one of them in the balls, then do it. Why do you think they stopped coming after me halfway through the game last year?"

"You kneed a football player in the balls?" you asked as your eyes went wide.

"Mhm. Did it to the captain of the football team last year. He was a senior, so he's not here anymore, but now all the football boys know not to mess with me."

"I will most definitely keep that one in mind."

***

Jay met up with you that Thursday after one of his classes because it was in the same hall as yours. "Day going good?" he asked as his eyes darted side to side, clearly in overprotective big brother mode.

"Yeah, and no one's tried anything yet, so I guess that's a good thing," you told him.

You were focused on dodging people in the hallway so you had time to stop by your locker and change out your books, go to the bathroom, and then get to your next class all within the span of five minutes (your school really needed to make passing time at least seven to eight minutes instead of five), so you didn't hear the booming laughter of a few varsity football players behind you...but Jay did.

"Back the fuck off," Jay growled as none other than Derek Evans reached out to grab your ass. But, Jay stopped him by turning around and walking backward to shield your backside and then grabbing Derek's outstretched hand.

"Aww, look guys, the little freshman needs her big brother to protect her," Derek mocked.

"From you, yeah she does. You're a sick fuck, Evans...and that goes for your posse, too."

"Let go of my hand, Halstead."

Jay narrowed his eyes, but he let go. "Next time you try to grab my sister, that arm will be twisted so far back behind you that you can kiss your senior season goodbye."

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes and then turned around to go back the other way, towards his actual class.

"Thanks," you said as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Don't mention it."

***

Jay made his way out of a classroom later that day and saw Hailey, so he made his way over to her.

"I don't need protecting, Jay," she told him.

"I know," Jay replied. "Everyone knows about you kneeing the captain last year. Great job on that by the way. I know I'm a year late, but that was a good move on your part."

"Thanks. It was just a reflex, honestly."

"And thanks for helping Y/N with the clothes thing. She was really nervous."

Hailey waved a hand flippantly. "That was nothing, just a girl helping another girl out."

"As the world should be," Jay agreed. Hey, his mother taught him to look at women as equals and he was going to treat Hailey as such...now that he knew she could protect herself from all these assholes. Because if she hadn't kneed that captain where the sun don't shine last year, you best believe he'd be on high alert for the varsity football players just like he was with you a few classes ago. "So, our practice got canceled because of the rain and the football game got canceled, too. So, me, Adam, and Kelly were gonna go out for tacos at that place across the street, but Adam's bringing his girlfriend, Kim, and Kelly's bringing his girlfriend, Stella, and I don't want to third-wheel, so do you maybe want to go with me? That is if you don't have to be home right after school."

Her dad didn't get home until 5:30. "Sure," she told him. "I just have to be home by 4:30. But, I normally take the bus, so unless one of you can bring me home, I can't come." She figured getting home an hour early would work well so that she wasn't rushing.

"Adam's bringing me home, so I'm sure he can stop by your house, too. Where do you live?" Jay asked. She told him her address. "That's only a block away from me. I'm sure he can bring you home. I'll text him and then text you." He held out his phone. "Put your number in."

So, Hailey put her number in his phone. Then, she handed it back to him and they hurried to get to their respective classes before the late bell rang.

But, she was wondering why she was blushing so much as she turned away and why all these butterflies had erupted in her stomach when their fingers brushed against each other's when she handed his phone back to him. She wasn't falling for Jay Halstead. There was no way, right?

***

"So, party this weekend. Everyone in?" Adam asked as the six of them ate tacos.

"Whose house?" Kelly asked.

Adam said a name of a football player and told them it was Saturday night,  and they all agreed to go...except for Hailey, who spouted off some excuse about how she had to be up early on Sunday, so she couldn't go. Jay was disappointed that he wouldn't have an excuse to dance with her, but he figured there'd be other parties.

"Mom's working that night," Jay said. "So, as long as I'm home by like 2:45, I should be good. Will will probably be down, too. Then Natalie will probably come."

"Great. I'll text him so he knows how much beer to have his older brother buy...but I'm sure they'll buy extra because more people usually show up anyway."

They talked and ate for another hour before they had to leave so Hailey could get home on time.

Jay and Hailey sat in the backseat of Adam's car while Adam and Kim sat in the front.

When they pulled up to Hailey's house, Jay offered to walk her to the door, but she told him no, that he didn't have to. He insisted, but she still said no, so he let it go and she got out of the car and went inside her house.

"Dude, you so like her," Adam said as they drove another block to his house.

"I do not. I don't know what you're talking about. She's just a friend," he argued.

Adam snorted. "Yeah right. And I'm the fucking king of England."

"You should ask her to homecoming," Kim suggested.

"Kim! Not you, too!"

"It's obvious. You should ask her. She might just surprise you."

***

You woke up Saturday night to your phone ringing and breaking you out of a peaceful sleep. You rubbed your eyes and looked at the time and the caller. Why the hell was Jay calling you when it was past one in the morning?

"Hello?" you asked sleepily.

"Y/N, me and Will need your help," Jay said.

You immediately sat up. "What do you mean? I thought you were home. Where the hell are you?"

"We went to a party and we couldn't risk you telling Mom, so we snuck out around 11 when we knew you were sleeping. But, Kelly's the DD and he had two drinks, so he can't drive us home. He's not drunk off his ass, but if we get pulled over and they pull out a breathalyzer, we're all shit outta luck."

"Why can't you do it?" you asked. "You sound pretty sober to me."

"I'm two and a half beers deep and it'll probably be four by the time you get here."

"Fucking  hell, Jay. And me? You seem to forget that I don't have my license yet, just my permit. I can't come get you. You're just gonna have to wait until Mom gets home and call her."

"No! No way is Mom finding out!"

"What's in it for me? I'm not breaking the law and coming to get your dumbasses for free. And I need something from both you and Will."

"Fine," Jay huffed. "Name your price."

"You do my laundry for a month and Will does my algebra homework for a month."

"Two weeks. We'll do those for two weeks," Jay said.

"No. Three weeks or I'm not coming and you get to suffer the wrath of Mom."

"Fine," he relented. "I'll text you the address."

***

You drove Will's car like an old grandma on the way to the house party, sometimes going ten miles under the speed limit. There was no way you were getting busted for your brothers.

You turned off your car and parked in the closest spot you could find to the house where the party was at. Then, you pulled out your phone and texted both Jay and Will that you were there.

Five minutes passed...then ten and still no answer from either of them.

"Fucking hell," you muttered as you unbuckled and then grabbed the keys and got out of Will's car and locked it, safely zipping the keys in one of your sweatshirt pockets. "I swear to God if both of them are three sheets to the wind and I have to drag their asses out of there, I will not be fucking happy."

You started to walk towards the party, looking at your phone every couple of seconds to see if either of your brothers had texted you back.

You gasped when you felt someone grab your ass.

"Fifty points," he whispered in your ear and then grabbed your wrist.

Derek Evans.

"Let me go!" you told him as you tried to pull away from him.

"No can do, freshman. It's 500 points for fucking a freshman and there's no way I'm passing up that opportunity."

"Let me go!" you screamed. You even dropped your phone to the ground to try to use your other hand to pry his hand off your wrist. But, he just laughed and kept holding you. Then, he stomped on your phone, breaking it into pieces.

You kept screaming, but the music was so loud that no one could hear you. And, you tried to dig your heels into the ground to stop him, but it was no use; he was too strong.

Eventually, he got tired of dragging you and just picked you up. You punched and kicked him, but it didn't seem to work. It was like this senior was immune to pain.

He got to a shed near the side of the house and quite literally threw you against it. You groaned and took a few deep breaths. In that time, Derek had ripped his shirt off and grabbed your wrists with one hand. You dug your nails into his hands. You weren't going down without a fight.

"That's cute," he laughed. "You think some nails are going to stop me."

He dragged you over a few inches and then used some of his shirt to secure your wrists to the fence that separated this house from the one next to it.

"Help! Help!" you yelled. "Somebody help me!"

Your head flew to the right as he slapped you across the face. "Shut the fuck up!"

You whimpered and then started kicking your feet. But, he just walked away and watched you struggle as he removed his pants. Then, he sat on your legs. You couldn't kick anymore, so you started screaming even louder. He slapped you a few more times across the face until you finally  shut up because, fuck, that hurt. That just left you whimpering at his mercy as he fumbled with the string on your pajama pants. (You hadn't bothered changing your pants when you came to get your brothers, only threw on a bra on under your t-shirt.) You didn't know what to do. No one was going to save you and you were completely and utterly helpless.

***

Kelly Severide knew you were coming to pick them up as Jay had told him that when he was on his way to grab his fourth beer. He hadn't heard anything from Jay or Will yet but figured they were both shit-faced. So, he tried to text you. No reply. He tried to call. No answer.

So, Kelly walked out onto the back porch and started around the side of the house to see if you had parked. But then, he heard whimpering and what sounded like a slap and then a yelp. He started running.

When he saw what was happening, he saw red.

You were lying on the grass whimpering while Derek was just in his boxers. You wanted him to stop smacking your thighs and face because god, you were fucking hurting and you were also fucking terrified about what was going to happen next.

"Please," you whimpered. "Please, st--"

"You son of a bitch!"

Before you could even register who yelled that, Derek was thrown off of you and to the ground.

You caught your breath and just laid there panting and crying while Kelly did a number on Derek's face. He sent more punches to his stomach until he finally doubled over and groaned in pain. Then, he kicked him in the back and he fell to the ground. Kelly placed his foot on Derek's back. "Stay the fuck down you fucking bastard."

He pulled out his phone and called 911. "Hello, I'd like to report a sexual assault."

***

Will felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. "Kelly, where the hell are you, man?" he asked as he dirty danced with Natalie on the dance floor.

"Will, you need to come out by the shed now," he said, still with his foot on Derek's back, keeping him down. Kelly felt terrible that he couldn't untie you, but he couldn't risk Derek getting up and trying to finish what he started.

"Why? You snorting coke out there? Because count me out. I don't do that."

"No. It's Y/N. She was- she-- It's that stupid fucking game some of the bastards I call teammates are playing. An ambulance and the cops are on their way."

Will's mouth went dry. It went dry when he heard the game part, but now it was as if it was sandpaper.

"Jay's by me. We'll be there in a second."

Will pocketed his phone and let go of Natalie. "Baby, what's wrong?" she asked.

"It's Y/N. I think one of those football players got to her."

"Fuck a freshman." Adam's eyes went wide as he let go of Kim.

"What? What about fucking?" Jay asked as he went to take another sip of his beer, but Will swatted it out of his hand.

"We need to go. Now." He grabbed Jay's arm. "Adam, explain."

The three of them started running, Jay barely being able to run in a straight line and Natalie and Kim hot on their heels, and Adam explained how he heard about one part of the game that was called fuck a freshman. But, he thought it was a joke because he didn't know for sure because he didn't sign up for the game.

"Well, obviously it's not a joke!"

Will saw Kelly with his foot on Derek's back before he saw you.

"You fucking son of a bitch!" he yelled.

"Will!" you cried.

"Y/N, hold on. We're here, we're here." He knelt down next to you and untied the t-shirt that kept your wrists tied to the fence.

It took Jay a minute, but then he realized what happened...it also took Kim shaking him and telling him she was going to slap him across the face and then actually doing it. Now that sobered him up.

You could hear sirens in the distance.

"Me and Natalie will go get them," Will said. "You three good here?"

"We're good. Now go get help," Kelly said.

***

The ride to the hospital was a blur. You were still freaking out, so the paramedics had to give you a light sedative to calm down. You remembered your brothers being in the back of the ambulance with you and you remembered Jay puking in a bucket from all the beer he drank.

You vaguely remembered the doctors asking you questions and taking pictures of your bruises. You also remembered them telling the three police officers that they couldn't question you yet. And then, you fell asleep.

***

You slowly opened your eyes and squinted against the bright hospital lights.

Damn, it must've taken me a helluva long time to get the boys out of that party if I'm waking up when the sun is this bright, you thought to yourself.

But, then you looked at your surroundings and it all came flooding back to you.

"Mama, Mama," you cried.

"I'm here, honey, I'm here," she said as she gently grabbed your hand.

You tried to sit up, but your thighs and stomach hurt so bad from Derek hitting you that you couldn't.

"I want a hug but I can't sit up," you cried as tears started to stream down your face.

She stood up and bent over the bed and wrapped her arms around you. It was an uncomfortable position for her because she was bending over to hug you, but she didn't care. You were her little girl and she'd do anything to make you feel safe and loved.

Will and Jay sat in the chairs on the other side of your bed. You hadn't even realized they were there. Will had tears in his eyes and Jay had a hand over his mouth trying to stop a sob from coming out. God, if he wouldn't have called you to pick them up, then this wouldn't have happened. It was all his fault this happened to you.

A knock on the door sounded and your mom let go of you and the two of you looked towards the door.

It was Hailey.

Jay looked to you to see if it was okay that she came in and you nodded.

"Hey," she said as she entered. "I brought donuts. Figured you might be hungry."

You were glad she didn't ask if you were okay because it was apparent that you most definitely were not okay.

You nodded and she walked over to you and opened the box. "You get first pick."

You picked a raspberry-filled one and then proceeded to take tiny bites of your donut. It hurt too much to open your mouth a lot because your cheeks and chin were heavily bruised.

You almost finished your donut, when there was another knock on the door. This time it was three police officers. Then, they opened the door.

"Y/N, I'm Trudy Platt and this is Detective Alvin Olinsky and Detective Hank Voight. We're here to take a few statements about what happened," the officer told you.

"Am I in trouble?" you asked. You did drive without a license.

"No, not at all. We just need to know what happened. We can give you a minute to finish eating if you would like?"

"Can I do it now?"

"Of course." She turned to your mom. "Mom, you want to stay in the room?"

"If I can--"

"I don't want you to know the details, Mom. Please," you pleaded as more tears fell.

"Are you sure? I'll love you no matter what, honey. Good or bad, you're still my little girl."

"I know. But I just- I want to be alone."

"Okay, me and the boys and Hailey will be right outside."

The four of them left and the two detectives left as well, leaving only you and this officer known as Trudy Platt.

"Am I in trouble?" you asked when the door shut.

"Oh, honey, no," Trudy said as she sat down in the seat your mom was previously sitting in.

"But, I drove without my license be- because they asked me to pick them up and then- and then--"

"Y/N, you are not in any trouble. Kelly Severide told us most of the story about what happened, but we need to hear it in your own words. And you can take as long as you want. Take as much time as you need."

So you told her what happened.

"It's all my fault. If I would've never agreed to go pick up Will and Jay--"

"This is not your fault. None of this is your fault," she told you.

"But why does it feel like it is? If I could've just fought him off, maybe this wouldn't have happened." You wiped your eyes with the heels of your hands and let out a strangled sob which was more like a yell. "Why do boys get away with everything?"

She pulled the chair closer to your bed. "Y/N, you have my word that he won't be getting away with what he did to you. I promise you he won't get away with it."

"But how do you know that? You can't possibly know that!"

"Because I have two of the best detectives working with me and I just know that he won't get away with what he did to you."

After a few more minutes and explaining that you really didn't want to go through a trial, Trudy left the room. She also handed you her card in case you changed your mind about the trial.

Then, Trudy Platt went to the bathroom where she saw the other girl who was in the room with you while she was washing her hands. As the girl was scrubbing her hands, Trudy noticed a bruise on her arm, a little above her wrist. It was low enough that it could be hidden by long sleeves, but that it could also ride up when the girl was washing her hands.

"You're one of Y/N's friends?" Trudy asked.

"Yeah. Me and her brother got paired up for a project and I was supposed to meet him this morning, but he texted saying family emergency. So, I thought I'd bring them breakfast," Hailey answered.

"That's very kind of you. Were you at the party last night?"

"No, I was at home."

"Is that where you hurt your arm?"

Hailey quickly pulled on her sweatshirt sleeve "No, I uh, I hit it on my locker a few days ago."

Trudy knew this girl was lying. She had worked enough domestic and child abuse cases to know the usual excuses. So, she pulled out her business card and handed it to Hailey. "This is my business card. My cell phone number is on there as well. Call me if you need help getting out."

***

Trudy, Hank, and Al entered the district and then went into the basement where there were no cameras.

"I think we can all agree on not putting that the girl was driving without a license in the reports," Trudy started.

"Agreed," Al said. "What about the boys?"

"We leave out that they were drinking, too," Hank said. "The only people who know that they were drinking are us three and them since they obviously can't take a breathalyzer now, there's no use in putting it in the reports. They were just kids being kids."

"Yeah, except for the asshole who assaulted her," Al stated.

"Yeah, except for him. We're throwing the book at that bastard," Hank agreed.

"She said she didn't want to go through a trial," Trudy said.

"What? Why not?" Hank asked.

"She said that she didn't think that anyone would believe her. He's a senior who everyone likes, hell, this whole town knows he's going to be drafted. So, she thinks he wouldn't get in trouble if he does actually go to trial."

Hank sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Well, we have 48 hours to hold him, and then me and Al will figure out how to take care of this."

***

"Are you hungry?" your mom asked when you got home later that day. The hospital had discharged you since all your injuries were superficial, such as the bruises on your face, wrist stomach, and thighs.

"No," you muttered. "I'm gonna go to my room."

"Okay, well if you want to be alone, that's fine, but I took FMLA leave, so I'll be home for a while. Take all the time you need, honey."

You nodded and then walked into your room and cuddled under your blankets. Since it was the afternoon, there was still a bit of sunlight coming in from beneath your blinds, which you were thankful for. You turned on your fan and allowed it to blow lightly on you. You were glad that you always used your fan for white noise so that you could sleep, but it also helped to muffle your quiet sobs as you cried into your pillow.

Meanwhile, Hailey, Will, Jay, and your mom were in the kitchen. Hailey had come home with you and your family so that she and Will could work on their presentation. She said it was fine, that she could go home, but Will said working on the presentation would be a welcome distraction.

"What's FMLA leave?" Jay asked.

"It's the Family Medical Leave Act," she answered as she sat down at the kitchen table. "It means I can have up to twelve weeks unpaid leave at work and still be guaranteed a job when I get back. But, I'll probably just take half of that, because uh, I won't be making any money during that time."

"I can see if I can get my summer job back," Will immediately offered. "I know I said I can only work during the summer, but I can work on the weekends even if it's only ten hours a week and I've only been off for a month, so they should probably be able to rehire me--"

"Honey," your mom said, cutting him off. "I really appreciate you thinking of that. But it's your senior year and you're taking four AP classes. School comes first. We'll get through it. This is only temporary and I do have a savings account in case of emergencies and we should be fine."

"Okay, well, you can always tell me to talk to my boss if I need to," Will said. Then, he turned to Hailey. "I'll go grab my stuff and then we can work on the project."

Will walked away to his room, leaving Jay, your mom, and Hailey. "Can I get you anything, Hailey?" your mom asked. "Water, coffee?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine," Hailey said. This wasn't about her. She knew that you needed your mom and that your mom needed time to feel what happened as well. "Thank you, though."

"I'm gonna go check on Y/N and then go for a drive. If anything happens with her, Jay, I need either you or Will to call me right away."

"We will, Mom, don't worry."

Your mom pulled Jay into a hug. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Mom." Normally, Jay wouldn't have hugged his mom when his friends were around--or whatever he considered Hailey--, but he knew his mom needed it, so he returned her hug.

"Be back soon."

Then, she checked on you and seeing that you were asleep, grabbed her keys, and left.

"I'm gonna put on a pot of coffee," Jay said. "I know you said you were good, but you can have some if you want." He made his way to the cupboard and grabbed the container of ground-up coffee beans and started putting them into a filer.

"Thanks. Might take you up on that when me and Will are working. A little liquid focus never hurt anyone," she replied.

"No doubt."

Hailey paused, she wanted to keep talking with Jay but didn't know what to say. She didn't want to mention last night either. "So, are you taking any AP classes?" she asked. "You know, since Will's apparently taking four."

"Will's a psychopath and no, I'm not. Too much work if you ask me. If I was planning on going to college, I might take a few, but I'm not."

"Oh. Then what are you planning to do?"

"Maybe the army. My mom doesn't like the thought of me fighting in wars, but she supports my decision. I just don't feel like studying is for me."

"What branch?" Hailey asked.

He raised his eyebrows at how interested she was. "I was thinking the Army Rangers. They're the first ones on the ground in war zones."

"Sounds dangerous. You're practically flying blind."

"Oh, but that's what makes it fun."

Hailey laughed. "You're an adrenaline junkie, aren't you?"

"Oh, yeah. I love rollercoasters...and anything else that gets my heart racing."

"Hear about that new coaster at Cedar Point?"

"Yeah!" Jay exclaimed. And, before he even had time to process what he was about to say, he blurted it out anyway. "Maybe we could go together sometime."

Did he just ask me out? Hailey thought to herself. "I'd like that." She smiled.

"Am I invited?" Will asked as he walked down the hallway, overhearing their conversation.

"Uh," Jay blanched.

"Dude, chill. I know you were trying to ask her out--"

Jay's phone rang before he could yell at Will to knock it off and Hailey just took a seat at the table blushing really badly while she did so.

"It's Kev," Jay said while glaring at his older brother. "I gotta take this." He accepted the call and started to walk down the hall to the bedroom that he shared with Will. "Hey, man."

Jay closed his bedroom door and sat on his bed. "Adam just told me that Evans tried to rape your sister?"

Jay ran a hand down his face. "Uh, yeah, if Kelly wouldn't have gotten there when he did, who knows what would've happened."

"Is she okay? Is he in jail? Is she in the hospital?"

Jay knew that Kevin would react protectively since he had a younger sister, Vanessa, who was in seventh grade, just two years younger than you.

"I mean, physically her injuries are just bruising." He took a deep, shaky breath to stop himself from crying. "I think they're holding Evans and we just got home from the hospital. Y/N's sleeping now."

"Evans is so fucking lucky I wasn't there. Adam said that Kelly beat his face in pretty bad, but I'd do worse. I probably would've killed him, at least given him brain damage from a concussion."

"You and me both."

"And, uh, Adam said the cops are gonna talk to all the football players?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah. The detective did mention that. He also told me and Will not to go after Evans, but--"

"You're not gonna listen?" Kevin asked.

"I'll probably wait two weeks so he thinks he's safe and then go after him. You're more than welcome to help."

"I'll cover for you that night."

"Thanks, man. So, the cops talk to you yet?" Jay asked.

"Not yet. But I really don't have anything to say. I didn't participate and I would never participate. Might mention that White never tried to stop it and Coach Davis said it was off-limits, though."

"You think Davis knew what was going on?" Jay asked.

"There's no way. If he knew, he would've kicked all of them off the team. He doesn't fuck with stuff like that. White, on the other hand, well, we both know how that cat rolls."

"I should've mentioned that when they were talking to me earlier this morning. I was just, I was so worried about Y/N."

"I get it. I'd be the same way if this happened with Vanessa. I'll tell them about it. You just make sure she's okay. And, if you, her, Will, or your mom need anything, gimme a call. I'd be happy to help."

"Thanks, Kev."

"Good luck planning your revenge. Tell me what the cover is."

"Oh don't worry, I will."

***

Two weeks later

Jay popped the screen out of his window. "You can put this back in, right?" he asked Will.

"Yeah, yeah. I got it. Go give Evans hell for what he did to Y/N," he replied as he got out of bed and stood by the window.

"You know, still time for you to come with me."

"I got accepted to college already. I'm not about to jeopardize that. Cover still that Kev called and needed help babysitting Vanessa and Jordan?"

"That's the one. I'll crash at his house after this is done just so it seems believable. See you tomorrow."

"See you. Don't get beat up too badly."

Jay scoffed. "Yeah right."

Then, he started the three-mile walk to Derek Evan's house.

So, Jay had decided not to actually beat him up because his parents were home and he didn't want to have to deal with the parents. Derek and the cops he could handle, but having his parents yell that they want to press charges and scream at him, yeah no. He had stashed a can of black spray paint in a bush in his front yard and grabbed it when he was leaving. He planned on spray painting rapist on Derek's white car. Even though he didn't technically rape you, he tried to, so the word still stands.

Jay got there and pulled his hat down over his face. Then, he walked up the driveway and to Derek's car. He shook the can of spray paint and took the cap off. His finger was down on the button--

"Chicago PD!"

Fuck.

***

"Your last name's Halstead?" the cop who picked him up asked when they entered the 21st District.

"Yes, sir," he answered, his head hanging low and the can of spray paint still in his hand.

"Well, I need you to take a seat right there while I make a phone call. Do not move."

"Yes, sir."

Jay sat down on the bench across from the front desk and pulled out his phone. He sent texts to both Kevin and Will.

Cops caught me. At a police station right now. Will, don't you fucking dare tell Mom.

They replied that they were shocked, but Kevin said he could always come pick Jay up if he needed it. He figured Jordan and Vanessa would be okay by themselves for half an hour. And Will promised he wouldn't tell Mom...unless Jay needed bail money, then he'd have to tell her.

"Halstead," a gruff voice barked from the side of him.

Jay looked up to be met with one of the detectives who had worked your case. But, instead of being in his uniform, he was in normal clothes. The only thing that could tell anyone that he was a cop was the badge pinned to his jeans and the gun in its holster at his side.

Jay stood up.

"I had a feeling something like this might happen," Hank Voight stated. "So, I put a patrol car in front of the Evans' house."

"Am I under arrest?" Jay asked.

"You're not. But follow me."

Hank opened the door to the office next to where the bench was and Jay followed him in.

"Have a seat." Jay sat down in the chair in front of the desk and Hank sat in the chair behind the desk. If Jay didn't know any better, he'd say he was in the principal's office. "Jay, listen."

"Wait, how do you know I'm not Will?" Jay asked.

"I know that Will had red hair. And, you told the responding officer your full name, remember?"

"Yes, sorry."

"It's okay. A little questioning never hurt anybody. But, Jay, listen. You can't go and beat this kid up or destroy or vandalize his property." Jay opened his mouth to protest, but Hank put a hand up to stop him. "I understand that you're angry and want to get revenge for your sister. But, that's not going to make it like it didn't happen. And, you'd be the one getting in trouble, not him. Severide already did a number on him."

"But, Y/N doesn't want a trial because she doesn't want to relive it!" Jay argued. "I just have to let him get away with it?"

"He's not going to get away with it, I can promise you that. I just don't want you to be the one getting in trouble for bringing a little justice to the world. I can promise you justice will be served, though."

"How? If there's no trial and I can't go after him, how will justice be served?"

"Jay, just let it run its course. Now, I'm assuming your mom doesn't know you're here?"

"No, she doesn't. I planned on going to a friend's house after."

"I'll drive you there. All this vandalism stuff will stay between me, you, and the patrolman."

Jay's jaw dropped. "Wow, thank you so much."

"Hey, I would've done the same thing if I was in your shoes. Now, c'mon, let's get you to that friend's house."

***

One month later

It was your mom's first day back to work. She said she would stay home longer if you wanted her to, but you told her you were fine. And, she thought that as well because you had been coming out of your room more these past two weeks.

You walked to the kitchen to go get some water which was normal for you. All you had been doing since you were almost raped was sleeping. You'd occasionally have dinner with your family, but that was it. You also started seeing a therapist a week after the attempted rape, which helped immensely. But, when she saw your symptoms, she had suggested anti-depressants after you had talked to her for a couple weeks. So, you were on them.

After a week, you started to gain some energy back. It wasn't back to normal yet, but it was enough that you would watch movies and tv shows, read, and journal in your room instead of lying in bed staring at the ceiling and sleeping all day.

You were on your way back to your room with your glass of water when you heard a familiar opening line to one of your favorite Disney Channel movies: Lemonade Mouth.

You poked your head into the living room. "Are you guys watching Lemonade Mouth?" you asked your brothers.

"We were gonna change it to watch some hockey," Jay said. Then, he saw Will's pointed look. "But, if you want to watch Lemonade Mouth, then we can."

Will paused the tv. "Are you sure?" you asked.

"We're sure," Will replied. "I'll go make us some popcorn while you get comfortable."

And thus started the plan of watching a movie every night to get you out of your room. Sometimes, Will would have too much homework, so you'd watch a movie with Jay. Sometimes Jay would have a soccer game, so you'd watch a movie with Will. Sometimes, Will would have a ton of homework and Jay would have a soccer game, so you'd watch a movie with your mom. Either way, it was nice to know that they were there for you and that you didn't have to talk about anything with them.

"Hey, like my new shirt?" Jay asked.

"When did you go shopping?" Will asked as he looked up from his textbook.

"Practice got canceled because Coach is sick and Hailey wanted to get some food and go to Goodwill, so we got food and went to Goodwill."

"Jesus, man, you are so whipped. Didn't you just become boyfriend and girlfriend last week?"

"Yes. Y/N you-- what's wrong?"

Your breath was caught in your throat and you felt like you couldn't breathe. If you could see yourself right now, you knew you'd look like a ghost.

"Nothing. I- I just need to get some water and then I'm gonna go take a nap."

"Okay," Will started, "you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, but you also grabbed your bottle of antidepressants and put them in the pocket of your sweatshirt. Then, you made your way to your bedroom and locked the door.

How the hell did Jay manage to find the exact same shirt at a thrift store? It was a navy blue shirt with the Abercrombie and Fitch logo on it...the same exact shirt Derek was wearing on the night of the party.

It all came flooding back to you. You screaming...him slapping you...you crying...

You couldn't breathe.

"Ahhh!" you sobbed and dropped to your knees and curled up into a ball, taking the pills out of your pocket.

You continued sobbing and then you heard a knock on your door and heard the doorknob rattle.

"Y/N, Y/N, I need you to open this door," Will told you.

"No! Leave me alone!" you yelled.

"Can't do that. Mom left us in charge since she went back to work. If you don't open this door in three seconds, we're coming in somehow."

He got to two and you relented and opened the door.

"Y/N...what--"

You thrust the bottle of pills in his hand. "Take them! Take them, please!"

"Were you...?"

"I don't know! I don't know, Will! Just get them away from me!"

He pocketed them. "Okay, what's going on? What happened?"

Jay came around the corner.

"It's the same- the same--"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath for me and then we can talk about this."

After five minutes of Will calming you down, you were finally able to catch your breath enough to talk.

"Jay's got the same shirt!" you wailed.

"The same shirt as who?" Will asked gently, careful not to touch you for fear that it would send you into another anxiety attack.

"Derek!"

Will turned around. "Jay, go rip that fucking shirt off and fucking burn it!" Jay just stood there, shellshocked. "Jay!"

He turned around and went to his room to take it off and get rid of it.

"Now, can I give you a hug?" Will asked. You nodded and allowed him to embrace you. When he pulled away, he asked, "Were you really going to do that? With the pills?"

"I- I don't think so," you told him. "I just saw them when I was getting water and grabbed them. I don't want to die."

"That's good. That's really good. But, you know we have to talk to Mom about this, right?"

"Yeah. And, I know I'm supposed to go back to school next week, but I- I don't think I can handle it, Will."

"Then we'll talk to her about that, too."

Jay ran out of his room--in a different shirt--holding his phone in his hand and looking frantic. "We have to go now!" he yelled.

"Why?" Will asked. "Where?"

"Mom just called and said she had to check out Hailey in the hospital."

***

"Hailey!" Jay yelled as he entered her room. He saw her bruised face and her arm in a sling. "Baby, what happened?"

"He- he--" And then she erupted into sobs and reached her good arm over to Jay.

You noticed that one of the officers who worked your case was also in the room.

"Hailey, honey, do you want to press charges?" Trudy Platt asked.

"I can't!" she wailed as she lifted her head off of Jay's chest. "I know I called you, but he's my dad!"

Jay let go of her. "Your dad did this? That son of a--"

"Jay!" your mom yelled.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Hailey reached for her water, but you noticed it was slightly out of her reach so you handed it to her. You hated seeing the girl who you considered your best friend in this much pain, at the hands of her father of all people.

Since you were only in school for less than a month before everything happened and didn't have time to form real, long-lasting friendships you didn't really have any close friends besides Hailey. And now, you knew how she felt when she saw you in that hospital bed six weeks ago.

"Hailey, I can't let you go back to that house," Trudy said.

"But I don't want to press charges! Can't you just pretend you didn't see that? That I didn't call you?" Hailey argued.

"Honey, since you're a minor, I'm supposed to press charges no matter what."

"But he's my dad!" she cried. "I know he's horrible, but I don't want him to rot in prison."

"Hailey, listen to me," Trudy began. "I am giving you an out here. I won't press charges, but for me not to press charges, I need you to be in a safe home."

"You're saying I need to find to find someplace else to live?" she asked.

Trudy nodded.

"Mom, can she...?" Jay asked as he looked up at his mom.

In that moment, your mom saw in Hailey what she had seen in you six weeks ago: a scared little girl who needed the comfort and love of a parent. And, your mom knew she wasn't her actual parent, but she had been over so much recently that it was hard for her to see Hailey as just one of Will's classmates...especially now since she was your best friend and Jay's girlfriend.

"She can stay. As long as she doesn't mind sharing a room with Y/N," your mom agreed.

And, it was that day that Hailey Upton decided that she wanted to become a cop.

***

Hank Voight pulled over Derek on his way home from school.

"Is there a problem, officer?" Derek asked as he rolled down his window.

"First of all, it's detective. And second of all, there is a problem. The problem is that you almost raped a girl," he stated.

"And she didn't file charges, so until she does, I didn't do that."

Hank reached over and grabbed Derek Evans by the collar. "Listen here. In two weeks, you are going to write a letter to your parents saying that you're running away because of all the ridicule you've faced because of this. And then, you're going to meet me at this address." He thrust a piece of paper into his hand. "Oh, and if you think I'm not serious, let me know if your principal shows up to school tomorrow because I can promise you he won't be there. He'll be in prison...or dead. I'll let you think over which one it is." He let go of his collar. "If I were you, I'd show up or it will be a whole lot worse for you."

Derek swallowed. "Okay."

***

Two weeks later

Hailey was settling in at your house, but you still weren't ready to go back to school.

"Y/N," your mom called from the kitchen. You walked out there. "I talked to one of your counselors. They said that they think online school would be helpful. Is that something you might be interested in?"

You never thought your mom would cave to this, but you were on cloud nine. "Yes, please."

"Okay, but can you try to go back at the beginning of next year?"

"I don't know, Mom."

"That's okay. I shouldn't have asked you that. You'll know when you're ready." She paused. "But, one of the things I'm worried about is you not getting any social interaction."

Will walked out of his room. "What if I do it with her?" he asked. "I could go to school for my AP classes and then take the other ones online. The AP ones are really the only ones that matter."

"Will, it's your senior year," your mom argued.

"I know. I can still do all the fun senior stuff, but I wouldn't have to be at school all day."

"Can I do it, too?" Jay asked. "And, I can still go to school for math and English because we know how I am in those subjects. I can even ask Hailey and text some friends if they want to do online school, too," he suggested.

Tears formed in your eyes. Your brothers were giving up their high school experiences for you.

"Boys, I don't know--"

"Mom, you said the issue was social interaction," Will began, "if we're there and other people are there, she wouldn't be missing out on social interaction."

Your mom sighed. "Are you two sure about this? This isn't a decision you can take lightly." They both said they were sure. "Okay, I'll call the school."

"I'll ask Hailey and make some phone calls," Jay said.

And so, three days later, you, your brothers, Hailey, Kim, Adam, Kevin, Natalie, Stella, and Kelly were all sitting in a coffee shop working on online school.

***

Derek Evans walked a block before he got in Hank Voight's car.

"You have everything?" Hank asked, referring to Derek's backpack filled with clothes, toiletries, and other necessities.

"Yes, sir," Derek answered. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," was all Hank said and then he started driving.

They pulled up to a dirt area on the water with four huge silos. "What are we doing here?" Derek asked.

"Get out of the car."

Derek listened and then Hank followed him around the car. He pulled his gun out of his holster and pressed the cool, black metal against Derek's temple. Derek froze.

"Walk," Hank commanded.

Derek listened and he walked with Hank still holding a gun to his head.

Hank told him to stop and then he drew a line in the dirt with his foot.

"You see this line?" he asked.

"Uh huh," Derek answered while visibly shaking.

"If you ever cross this line again, there will be a bullet in your head. Walk and don't come back." Hank lowered his gun and Derek started walking, not looking back, doing exactly as Hank had told him to do. "Nobody fucks with my city, Evans," Hank said to his retreating back. "Nobody. Not even you."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this rewrite! Thank you for reading! Please remember to reblog/like and comment because I always love when those notifications pop up and I love reading your comments!And, if you like my writing, you can support me at buy me coffee here. It's only a dollar and it's through Paypal and any currency can be used, no subscription required! (I write these fics for free, so I figured I'd try this out!) As always, if you want ti be added to my taglist, just comment that and I’ll add you

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